I GOT DRUNK AT FENWAY AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY ESSAY
By: The Lifeguard
The Boston Red Sox, my favourite baseball team, won the American League Championship Series in seven games, taking three straight from the Indians of Cleveland, and reached the Fall Classic for the second time in four years. And, it was awesome.
In spite of the fact that I was shut off after seven beer-soaked innings, I had still managed to remorsefully imbibe a shit-load of Guinness Stout, eat six Fenway Franks, and a pretzel. I was standing for "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and "Sweet Caroline"; and, I avoided a fist-fight with an unruly Tribe fan.
So, as I staggered out of the friendly confines of Fenway Park, completely and totally shit-house, I thought it best to just go on home. Instead, with my judgment clouded by drink, I ventured out onto the surrounding streets and started screaming and howling, celebrating the victory, nay, the ass-whooping handed out by the new Gashouse Gang.
Unfortunately, the Boston Police Department had other ideas for the celebrants; and, fearing contact with errant OC balls, I did the next logical thing. I threw up. The big spit. All over Officer Tierney, who promptly arrested me and threw me--hands bound with wire ties--into the back of the waiting Black Maria.
I was spirited, along with twenty-some other drunken, rock-throwing, vomiting fools to the station, where I was booked, then tucked away to sober-up and await arraignment, all while clenching my ass-cheeks to avoid any unwelcome exploration by any of the Vasco DeGamas sharing the cell with me.
And then, it was off to beautiful Roxbury District Court for a date with Judge Redd, who, as a sentence, gave me this essay...and told me to tell my parents about the arrest.
Fortunately (in a sense), my parents are both dead, so I am off the hook on that one. As for the essay, here it is.
What did I learn? A lot.
It is bad to drink two pints of Guinness every inning, for seven innings. It is worse to add the dogs and pretzel to the mix. I will never do that again.
Oh, and it is bad to join a riot. It would have been better for me to just go home.
And throwing up on a policeman. Bad idea. Really bad.