Home Baseball Man Crush Fridays: Bailey, Scherzer, and Chestnut

Man Crush Fridays: Bailey, Scherzer, and Chestnut

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Happy belated Fourth, bitches!

We are all nursing a hangover from celebrating our country’s birthday. She’s a beauty at 237. I’ll more than likely be taking a dirt nap at that point, but on the off chance super science lengthens our spin on this planet to a couple of centuries plus, I hope I look this good. America has great curves. Fairly chiseled as well.

This week, we broke one of our only rules here at Pete’s for the Fourth of July, and we cooked out. Sausage and burgers from the local butcher. We got our buns from the bakery up the road. We tried to keep it all local except the Heinz–it’s the only way to travel. Time to drop the ketchup product name and just start calling it Heinz. It’s like Hellman’s, or Kleenex, or Cadillac. There is no acceptable alternative. I sound like Don Draper all of the sudden. I’m very serious about my Heinz, I suppose.

The patriotic vibes roll on this weekend during the day at Pete’s with day drinking, baseball, and burgers. At night it’s our annual All-American Ride the Rail. For those of you who’ve never had the fortune or misfortune of riding the rail, it’s when you sit down in a bar and drink every beer they have on tap from left to right. We’ve got 12 taps at Pete’s, and this week we roll like this:

Coors Light

Coors

Bell’s Oberon

Brooklyn Summer Ale

Bell’s Two Hearted Ale

Three Floyd’s Gumball Head

Pabst Blue Ribbon

Lagunitas Imperial Stout

Allagash White

Woodchuck Draft Cider

New Belgium Fat Tire

Sam Adams Boston Lager

All American brews. It’s not easy riding the rail. With that combo of stars and stripes brews, you’re staring at a wicked headache. It’s also not a race. Although it’s nice to be the first to break the tape on the rail, there is no bonus for finishing first. There is, however, a bonus for finishing. He who does not finish must split the tab with all those who do not finish. Those who eventually finish their Sam Adams don’t have to pitch any funds. Winners drink for free. ‘Ol Pete’s incentives get people’s very best, but if you have to toss, you have to start over. Those are the rules. Twelve pints. Six hours. In order.

I’m hazed from all the sunshine. Today we stagger into the bar looking for solace from the blinding rays. After a few drinks to regulate our bodies’ instruments, we’ll get to our weekly love fest. Slowly but surely, we’ll get there.

Mancrush Roll Call!

Homer Bailey

It’s been a long journey for the appropriately named Homer. Bailey was the next big thing for years but it never seemed to all come together for the now-27-year-old. He’s now an established pitcher in MLB with two no-hitters under his belt. He’s joined a club that only includes 34 major league pitchers ever. Multiple no-hitters. He’s turning into the horse for a very good Reds team, and while he may never be an ace, he’s always going to be very dangerous. Once he throws that third nohitter, we’ll have to stop calling him a very good pitcher, and start calling him great. I’m looking forward to this odyssey.

Max Scherzer

Not since the Rocket has a pitcher gone 13-0 to start their season. Cut from the same cloth, Mad Max has always had the heat, but has never been able to locate. After struggling for years to even get to through the fifth inning for a decision, Scherz is a winning decision machine. Picking up the slack for an inconsistent Justin Verlander, Scherzer is carrying the Tigers to the playoffs. I get the feeling like this is the year for the Tigers. Eventually this team will have to break through. Playing in an inept division, the Tigers should get quite a few chances over the next couple of years. Max is cruising toward a Cy Young. Should be a great finish.

Joey Chestnut

Anyone that can shove 69 wieners into his mouth over the course of 12 minutes deserves some sort of award. America’s answer to Kobayashi has been dominating the Nathan’s Hot Dog eating contest for a few years. I saw a stat that said he ate two weeks worth of calories in 12 minutes. My god. I vow to stop watching this contest every year, and yet every July Fourth there I sit, mouth agape, as 20 or so competitive eaters wolf down encased meat like their lives depended on it. Land of the free. Home of the insane. We love to be the best in US of A, no matter the competition.

Other Sweetness from the week:

Robbie Cano heating up just when the Yankees looked done.

All day baseball. It’s the way it should be.

Fireworks, the greatest waste of money I’ve ever seen. America!

The Pittsburgh Pirates. All of ‘em.

Enjoy the weekend, tip a glass, and let a little love into your life.

Um, let's see, I don't know, maybe about six feet tall and two hundred pounds? I've been doing theater and improv in Chicago for a while now. Like fifteen years or so. O, yeah, I have a full day, day job for insurance and monetary purposes (no more half days with a big nap in the afternoon). I work as a project manager for a metal manufacturing plant. Huh? O, ah, two kids a wife. Yeah, they're great. I mean, not all the time great, like Brady Bunch shit, but no one has burned the house down yet. So, yeah, I guess that's it. I didn't get the job, did I?