Bacon Night

Game Notes From Thursday:

Bacon Bonanza Night at the Ballpark – the only exercise in gluttony better than Thanksgiving.

No Beer Boycott on Thirsty Thursday. All is right in the world …. for now.

Temecula Blake has made the trip up tonight. Most Excellent.

It is also Little League Western Regional Night, so that means those little Hawaiian Bastards are here. They are just waiting to loot E Street – I can feel it in my bones.
The Little League games star tomorrow, so HOPE is still alive for all.

Thunderheads above the mountains – lightning strikes imminent. First Responders are going to be busy tonight.
So the first bacon donut cheeseburger went down pretty fast. We will see if stays down.
A charming mother of three has a “Fuck Love” tattoo on her upper arm. I guess she hasn’t found Mr. Right just yet.
Shit, it appears the Washington team is our section. That is almost as bad as having to sit next to real live Canadians.
The 66ers employees are wearing their black polo shirts tonight because it is only 103 degrees. Perhaps they are wearing black because they are mourning the 66ers’ playoff chances.
Some old lady from Washington just informed me I was in her seat. I don’t think so ma’am – now move along, but could you be a dear a fetch me some maple donut bacon bars?
It appears that mullets are still a fashion statement with white youths in Utah if the Utah Little League team is any indication of the state’s style trends.
66ers brought up a pitcher from Rookie ball. Dilon Ortman is his name – he was an undrafted free agent from Auburn University, B-Ref says he is nothing special, but this is the time of the year weird moves happen.
I wonder if the Hell’s Angels use Geico for their motorcycle insurance – the video ad on the scoreboard sure makes it seem so.
Sweet Jesus, the old folks home from Washington can’t seem to find their correct seats. Hey OLD PEOPLE! Shouting isn’t going to help. What’s that? Oh, you are in the next section, not this on? Thank you for your patronage!
Season highlights on the big screen are accompanied by the Foo Fighters ‘ “All My Life”. Most of the highlights include Bernie and the Dance Squad.
No Wade Hinkle in the lineup? Where is Wade? Wade is hurt again, you say? Poor Wade.
Sound The Horn! Three dink hits = one run.
Golf Bum is not amused with the Little Leaguers. Lighten up, Golf Bum; those are tourist dollars.
Golf Bum might have a point – the Mountain Ridge team from Nevada is rather obnoxious, and their uniforms are hideous.
I think Stephen King is sitting a couple of sections over. Wait, that is just some other guy with grey hair who looks like he was also hit by a van.
Rookie concession workers can’t handle the crush of Bacon Night. To be fair, the Maple Donut Bacon Bar looks like it takes some time to prepare.
The Hags have arrived! Where have you been? What is that? You only come to games when school is in? Wait, you aren’t retired? Shit, I need to put my paperwork in now before I start looking like you people.
The stink of desperation is starting to overpower the bacon aroma. Funny how two types of charred flesh can smell so different. The bacon aroma will dissipate tonight – the smell of burning flesh and broken dreams will last all of August.
I think one of the Hags is trying to consume her Maple Donut Bacon Bar with a straw. She needs to keep her fingers free for her bacon nachos.
My son will not be getting a foul ball tonight as he is choosing to read the fifth Harry Potter book in his seat rather than shagging balls in the outfield. Sometimes a good book just trumps baseball.
There was some sort of bacon race – kids dressed in bacon racing. The moved the finish line back on the skinny kid so the fat could win. OUTRAGE!
Burt Reynolds. African American ballplayer for the High Desert Mavs, but Burt Reynolds the white actor’s picture is on the big screen when Burt is at the plate.
Living in a van down by the river still doesn’t get old. What the world needs now is a new Chris Farley, sans “Black Sheep.”
All my vitals indicate I am slipping into an insulin coma.
Whoa – the old people from Washington are loaded – Thirsty Thursday has kicked their ass.
Bernie loses the Mascot Dash because he fell down and started sizzling like a piece of bacon. The 66er Think Tanks don’t miss a beat.
The Hags have bourbon. Oh, how I have missed these ladies.
Golf Bum just heckled one of the Mountain Ridge team – “Your uniforms look like something the Cub Scouts would wear to a winter formal.” The Mountain Ridge team was throwing stuff at Bernie. Mountain Ridge dad is not happy and confronts Golf Bum. Golf Bum and Nevada Dad go off into the concourse to discuss matters. Nevada Dad returns’ Golf Bum doesn’t.
More bacon contests – this time kids in bacon costumes diving on Slip n Slides. I have no idea what is being promoted because INSULIN SHOCK has taken hold. Can one get Bacon Sweats?
Still no Golf Bum. Hey you, Nevada bastard, did you kill Golf Bum? Oops, I sort of yelled that. Nevada Dad looks confused. The Washington Old People think I am talking to them. Dirty looks are shot my way. They look like they are going to start stumbling my way. This needs to be nipped in the bud. I stand and yell:

DO YOU REALLY WANT TO COME OVER HERE! IF YOU DO, YOU WILL REMEMBER MY NAME!
The Washington Old People don’t quite know what to make of this. They sit down in confusion. Nevada Dad no longer thinks I was talking to him. Crises adverted.
Temecula Blake whispers, “You are one smooth idiot.”
This isn’t over, I tell Blake. I know where those kids are playing tomorrow.