The Phillies Are World Fucking Champions - Part 1

I apologize for the timing of this post.  I should have posted this 2 months ago, when the emotions were still fresh and the feeling was still new.  Then the CPA Exam followed by a busy work schedule got in the way, and before I knew it, 2 months had flown by.  But now that it's Christmas and I have some time to reflect, I want to tell you about my Christmas present.  It came about 2 months early this year, and it definitely was the best gift I've ever received.  The best part about it?  I'll have it for the rest of my life.  Of course, that gift is the Phillies World Series Championship.

Let's start from the point where it almost all went to hell.  Game 5 of the World Series took place on a Monday night.  If you were in Philadelphia that night, you remember how shitty the weather was.  It was about 35 degrees, just above freezing, and around the 3rd inning it started raining.  The rain wasn't too terrible at first, just some light showers.  As time went on the rain got worse, and worse, and worse, and the winds began to pick up.  During the 5th inning, the rain was coming down so hard that the conditions were simply unplayable.  At some point during this fiasco, Jimmy Rollins, out Gold Glove shortstop, dropped a routine pop-up because the wind was blowing in all different directions.  Basically, it got to the point that baseball wasn't even being played any more.  It was a disgrace, and Bud Selig added another giant black eye to his already horrendous resume.

Let's get to the baseball.  The Phillies held on to a 2-1 lead going into the 5th inning with their ace, Cole Hamels, on the hill.  Hamels had pitched tremendously throughout the entire postseason, winning all 4 games he started, and never giving up more than 2 runs in any of them.  With a 2-1 lead you could almost guarantee a Phillies victory...unless mother nature had something to do with it.  We can skip all the painful details, but suffice it to say that by the middle of the 6th, the Rays had tied the game at 2, and the weather had everything to do with it.  When asked after the game what it was like throwing in those conditions, Cole replied that he couldn't feel the baseball, and had no idea where his pitches were going to land.  Thanks, Bud, let's decide the World Series like that, asshole.  Of course, the umpires finally delayed the game, after the Rays had tied it, and every person in Philadelphia was ready to jump off the Walt Whitman Bridge.  The score:  2-2, mid 6.  All of the jubilation, excitement, and anticipation that preceded the game had been washed away from the city of Philadelphia, and now everyone was expecting the worst.  At Smith's, the bar in Center City where I decided to watch the game, the mood was eerily somber, and for the first time all night you could hear the person next to you talk.  An hour later, the game was officially delayed, and no one knew when the game would resume.

Needless to say, I was miserable.  I had been anticipating a victory since Game 4 ended on Sunday.  I knew that with our ace on the hill, our ravenous home fans supporting us, and destiny on our side, we were going to win the World Series.  Now I wasn't so sure.  Our ace was spent, and would not be available to pitch the rest of Game 5.  The Rays gained the momentum that we had built up since the stunning Game 3 victory at 2AM.  The horrors of seasons past began to rear their ugly heads, and everyone was now expecting the worst.  Hey, this is Philadelphia we're talking about.  We've been conditioned to have our hearts ripped out and our seemingly best moments smashed before our very eyes.  To make matters worse, when I arrived at the PATCO station around midnight and boarded the train, it decided it wasn't going to move.  Apparently, the rails were malfunctioning, and they weren't sure when they would be fixed.  Fan-fucking-tastic!  I had no ride home, it was cold and miserable outside, and the Phillies just had the World Series stolen from them by mother nature.  My dad was sleeping, my mom was sick, Heath was drunk, so I really didn't know how I was going to get home.  The thought had actually crossed my mind to sleep in the office and just hope to wake up before anyone got there and clean myself up a bit.  Cooler heads prevailed, and Julie finally got one of her co-workers to come get us from Center City.  I got home at 2 AM, cold, miserable, and tired, and tried to fall asleep without crying at how terribly the night had turned out.

The next morning, I got up for work and needless to say, really didn't feel like working.  I perused every article about the prior night's game, and had my suspicions confirmed that it was handled in pretty much the worst manner possible.  The normally pleasant 12 minute walk to work seemed to take 2 hours, and with every step my body felt the bitter cold and rain that surrounded me.  Imagine the perfect weather for your funeral (or a normal day from November to March in Pittsburgh) and that's pretty much the weather we had in Philly on October 28.  After a while, I simply gave up thinking about it, and just hoped that whenever we played next would turn out OK.  I found out later in the day that we wouldn't be playing Tuesday night, and the game was rescheduled for Wednesday at 8:28.  Then, a glimmer of hope appeared.  During my lunch break, I spoke with Raj.  I told him that I thought he should come home for the game on Wednesday night.  For those of you who don't know, Raj is at UVA med school right now, and like all med students, works his ass off.  Raj is also one of the most devoted Phillies fans I know.  Raj, Julie, Kanad, and myself comprise our Phillies "crew."  The 4 of us regularly attend games together, talk about the Phillies constantly, and when we're all together add a certain magic element to the Phillies.  I knew that if the 4 of us were to go to Smith's together on Wednesday night to watch the Phillies game, we would have to win the World Series.  All the pieces would be in place, and we'd be well on our way.  I planted the seed in Raj's head, and he told me he wasn't sure but he would let me know.  With that, I finally felt a resurgence in my energy.

I went to bed that night, excited for tomorrow's game, hopeful that Raj would come back.  I received my answer at 6:22 AM when my alarm went off, and I checked my text messages.  Raj was coming home.  It was on.  On Wednesday, the weather was just as crappy, but this time my energy was re-charged.  In fact, the entire city seemed to be re-charged.  I felt the excitement in the air once again.  People were starting to believe.  Starting to believe that this Phillies team was not your ordinary Philadelphia team.  Starting to believe that all the years of pain and anguish could be turned around.  Starting to believe we could WIN.  I drifted through work that day, not focusing on a damn thing besides the Phillies.  Once I got out, I was ready, we were going to win.

I met up with Raj, Julie, and Kanad at the PATCO station, and we took the 5 block walk over to Smith's.  I started this thing at Smith's, and I was going to finish it there, too.  It was cold and a little bit rainy out, but now it didn't matter.  Nothing was stopping us tonight.  When we arrived at Smith's it was just as packed as it was on Monday, and the energy was back.  As the Phillies got ready to hit in the bottom of the 6th, we sipped our beer and got ready for what was to become the best night of our lives.  Before we knew it, we were back on top after a clutch pinch-hit double by Geoff Jenkins and single by Jayson Werth.  The bar was rockin' and everyone was ready for the victory celebration that was to occur 3 innings later.  But as soon as we got the lead, it evaporated, as Rocco Baldelli took a Ryan Madson fastball deep to left field.  3-3 game, tension mounting.  

But the tide turned for good when Chase Utley made one of the most heads-up, gutsy plays I have ever seen.  After Baldelli's Home Run, the Rays got a man on 2nd base with 2 outs.  Akinori Iwamura hit a sharp grounder to Utley's right, forcing him away from first base.  Knowing the Iwamura had great speed and would certainly beat out the throw, Utley pump faked over to first base anyway, but held on to the ball.  The pump-fake was enough to get Jason Bartlett to round 3rd and head for home, as he thought the throw was going to 1st base.  Instead, Bartlett had a Carlos Ruiz tag waiting for him at home, and the Phillies were out of the inning.  To the casual baseball fan, this play might not seem like much, as it didn't involve superb athleticism or anything of that nature.  However, it required a great baseball IQ and a complete comprehension of the game and all of its nuances.  To lovers of baseball, this play was amazing.

The bottom of the 7th.  Pat Burrell at the plate.  For those of you who don't know, Pat Burrell is the longest tenured Phillie on the team.  He's been around since 2001, and he's had an up-and-down, rollercoaster ride with the team and its fans.  This year, the fans finally accept Pat for who he is, and he becomes one of the most beloved players on the team.  However, Pat is in the final year of his contract, and the speculation is that he won't be back for the 2009 campaign or beyond.  This very likely could be his final at bat in Citizens Bank Park, or possibly his final at bat as a Phillie.  But Pat is hitless in the World Series thus far, and hasn't looked very good at the plate.  As Pat steps in, everyone in Philadelphia is hoping he saves the season, and gets his final swan song as a Philadelphia Phillie.  After a few pitches, Pat finally sees something he likes, and gives it a good rip.  The ball is crushed deep to left, back, back, back, and hits the top of the fence, less than a foot away from a home run.  Pat is forced to settle for a double, and settle for coming a foot shy of becoming a Phillies legend for eternity.  So close Pat, so close.  2 batters later, Pedro Feliz delivers a clutch RBI single as he has done so many times this season, and the Phillies take the lead 4-3.  Nothing exciting happens during the 8th inning, and the 9th inning finally arrives.  The Phillies have the lead 4-3, in the 9th inning of the World Series, and our perfect closer, Brad Lidge, is about to take the hill.  Holy shit, this is unreal.

Before the 9th inning arrives, I hurry over to the bar.  I purchase 4 shots of Crown Royal in anticipation of what is about to occur.  This could potentially be an extremely stupid move for 2 reasons.  1)  I might jinx the Phillies and we may not win.  2)  I spent $30 on shots that I won't even need to be happy.  The Phillies winning will be all I need.  O well, I wasn't thinking that clearly at the time, so I bought the shots anyway.

As I walked back to my friends, shots in hand, I began to think about what this would mean to me if we could hold on.  I thought about all the crazy games I had been to over the past 5 years, when I really became a huge Phillies fan.  I thought about all the hours I spent in front of my TV, with my family and friends, hoping the Phillies, and all the other Philadelphia teams for that matter, would pull out a championship.  I thought about how that team had given me so much joy over the years, and how at the same time had caused me so much pain.  I thought about all the friendships that had gotten stronger because of the Phillies.  I thought about all the money I had spent, all the collectibles I had obtained, and all the gifts I had given.  I thought about the entire postseason, and all the magical moments it had provided:  both games I had attended, Brett Myers's crazy at-bats with CC Sabathia, Victorino's HR off Sabathia, Pat Burrell's HRs against the Brewers, Utley's game saving home-run against the Dodgers, Myers's 4 hits against the Dodgers, Victorino calling out Hiroki Kuroda after he threw a beanball, Utley's diving double play during Game 4, Matt Stairs's HR off of Jonathan Broxton in Game 4 of the NLCS, clinching the NL Pennant, Utley's first inning home run in Game 1 of the World Series, all of Hamels's brilliant performances, Lidge continuing his perfect season, Game 3 of the World Series (one of the craziest games I've ever seen), Jamie Moyer's diving play (who cares if the ump blew the call), finding out Jamie Moyer was extremely sick during Game 3, winning Game 4, the pain and anguish of Game 5 Part 1, the joy of having all my friends with me for Game 5 Part 2.

And finally, I thought about my grandparents, my grandparents who are no longer here to celebrate with me.  My grandfather was an avid sports fan, one of the people who introduced me to baseball, and helped foster my love for the game.  He attended every single baseball game I ever played, even if I was never going to play for the Phillies myself.  It didn't matter.  My grandmother was never much of a sports fan, but she supported everything I ever loved, and as such, became a Phillies fan herself.  If she were well, she would have been at every baseball game I ever played.  And no matter how many times I struck out, she would have thought I played like an All-Star.  I thought about how excited they would be for me at this very moment, and how when I got home, they would wait for my phone call, no matter how late it was, so they could celebrate with me.  I thought about how anytime in my life, whenever anything good happened to me, they would be there to share it with me.  I thought about the gaping hole in my heart since I lost them, and how nothing in this world will ever replace them.  If we were going to win, I was dedicating the joy I received from this celebration to them.  They would have been so happy.  The elation I was about to experience made me miss them more than I can describe.  But they would have wanted me to celebrate without that burden right then, so I got back to my friends, and prepared to celebrate.

Lidge entered to the "Soldiers" music, just like he had a few dozen times earlier that season.  Good sign, let's hope same music = same result.  Our closer made quick work of the Rays' upstart rookie Evan Longoria, just as our entire pitching staff had all series.  Our advance scouts did a fantastic job finding his weaknesses, and we exploited them all series long.  I don't think the obnoxious chants of "EEEEE-VAAAAAA" helped the 23 year-old out at all either.  Next up was Dioner Navarro, who slashed a single into right field to give the Rays a man on first with one out.  While the Phillies faithful was still confident, those demons began to take their toll once again.  Navarro, a fat catcher, was quickly replaced with Perez, the Rays' speedster off the bench.  He's only the fastest guy in baseball.  Fantastic.  Of course, Perez quickly stole second base, and the demons became more pronounced.  "Please tell me he's not going to blow his first save at this time," was the sentiment thought by about 3 million people in Philadelphia at that time.  A few pitches later, Ben Zobrist roped a ball into right field.  It looked exactly like Navarro's ball.  It looked like it was going to drop.  It looked like our greatest fears were going to be realized right before our eyes...but then Jayson Werth caught that ball.  1 out away from our dream.

At this point, my knuckles must have been ghostly white, and the anticipation was really starting to get to me.  I was literally sick to my stomach, I couldn't breathe, and I felt like my chest was going to cave in on me.  I think at some point I began to hyperventilate, and my friends had to calm me down.  This was becoming too much, someone had to end it before I had a heart attack.  Then, Erik Hinske stepped to the plate.  He was the final obstacle between the Phillies, our dream of a World Series Championship.  I gauged Lidge's face to try to see how he was holding up at this point.  Before he stepped onto the mound, he looked around at the spectacle before him, and took it all in.  After a few seconds, he took the mound, and you could see that he was ready to go.  First pitch, strike, foul ball.  Second pitch, strike, swinging.  O MY GOD, WE'RE ONE STRIKE AWAY FROM THE WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!  After some raucous applause from the patrons of Smith's, the bar got deathly quiet in anticipation of the final strike.  Bradley Thomas Lidge wound up, and just like Tug McGraw did 28 years earlier, delivered the Phillies a World Series Championship.  He threw a nasty slider, one of those unhittable ones, and Hinske never had a chance.  Strike three swinging, game over.  

Lidge dropped to his knees, yelled towards the heavens, and was mobbed by the rest of the team.  Citizens Bank Park went ballistic, and the city of Philadelphia blew a 25 year load that had been pent up inside, waiting for a championship.  Of course, I didn't see this until about 5 hours later, because about 4 miles North of Citizens Bank Park, the patrons of Smith's Bar & Restaurant were having a celebration of their own.  Remember those shots that I bought before the 9th inning?  I threw that shot on the floor as soon as I saw Hinske strike out.  I started jumping around like a madman, hugging everyone in sight, screaming at the top of my lungs, and enjoying the best moment of my entire life.  Champagne and beer were flying everywhere for about 30 seconds, and the bar was a scene of absolute bedlam.  For a solid 5 minutes, I was disconnected from my body, as the adrenaline and excitement dominated the moment.  I took a few seconds to look around at that point, to peer into the faces of all the Phillies fans who had just witnessed what I had witnessed.  I saw smiles and tears, genuine emotion, and enough pure joy to last a lifetime.  To this day, I still find it amazing how a group of 25 baseball players can make millions of people so incredibly happy.  But the Phillies did, and it's something that I will never forget.

Of course, taking it all in, I shed a few tears myself.  I mean come on, how could I not?  I'd been dreaming about this moment for years, and now it had finally come true.  I was able to share the moment with my 3 best friends, all of whom had sacrificed with me for many years to enjoy this celebration.  I could not have asked for a more perfect moment, and I guess that's what hit me right then, was that this was perfect.  I would not have changed one detail about the entire night, and I don't think too many people have ever experienced something like that.  As Raj, Julie, Kanad and I celebrated together, we made sure we enjoyed every moment, every detail, and every nuance of this perfect night.

After the initial celebration at Smith's, the crowd filed out of the bar and congregated on Chestnut St.  We all just kind of stood around screaming for a while, and no one was really sure what they were supposed to be doing at this point.  However, it didn't take too long for all of us to realize that the party was moving in one direction, and that direction was due East, straight to Broad St.

To be honest with you, I cannot put into words the emotion and power of that walk down Chestnut to Broad St.  I'll try my best to describe it, but testimony from Raj, Kanad or Julie would probably serve best.  First off, I was so excited and happy, I felt drunk.  At first I wondered if the alcohol was hitting me, but then I realized all I had purchased that night was 2 Bud Lights and a shot of Crown, and the Crown was lying somewhere on the floor of the bar.  I came to the conclusion that I was literally high on emotion, and I was just going to enjoy the moment.

The true entertainment value of the 5 block walk down Chestnut came from my bodily movements.  For those of you who don't know, I'm white (see top right of page), and when I get excited my whiteness really shows its true colors (i.e. "Doodie Dance").  When I totally lose focus on what I look like to other people, my body often moves in embarrassing ways.  There's nothing I can really do about it, and as I've grown older I've started to care less and less about it.  Well, the euphoria really took over on this night, because I was jumping, lunging, dancing, and moving in all kinds of embarrassing ways all the way down the street.  I didn't care how I looked, because this was the best night of my life, but I'll bet this would have made fantastic footage to be shown at my wedding, or some other important event where I'm supposed to look professional.  Here's to hoping that one of my friends had a video camera I wasn't aware of and is planning to expose the footage at some inopportune time.

The only blip of the night came at 16th and Chestnut, where cars were still driving on the roads.  Raj not so wisely thought that traffic lights didn't apply to him, and stepped right into the middle of the street as a car was about to cross the intersection.  Luckily, one of my friends from work, Troy, was paying attention and grabbed Raj before he became roadkill.  No harm, no foul.  We continued our trek.

When we finally arrived at Broad St, I could not believe my eyes.  Herds of people were flocking toward the exact same location, and Broad St. had became a party for a few hundred thousand people.  I tried to peer south down Broad to see how far it extended, but there was no end.  There was just a mass of humanity, and all of them were headed to Broad St.  It kind of looked like something out of a horror film, where zombies have congregated at one central location, even though their brains no longer function.  The party after the Phillies won the World Series was kinda like that, except we all weren't eating each other.  Although to be honest, at some points it appeared like we were.  I have never hugged, high-fived, grabbed, groped, carried, and celebrated with more people in my life.  There were poor people, rich people, young people, old people, white people, black people, brown people (yes, there were even brown people other than Raj and Kanad), good looking people, ugly people, cops, and vagrants, and for one glorious night, none of that mattered.  Everyone was united under the magic that was the Phillies season, and all distinctions faded away.

After a short while, some of the revelers got creative, and started climbing lightpoles.  One dude, with Spiderman like reflexes, climbed 30-40 feet up a pole and began removing one of the Phillies banners affixed to the lightpole.  20 minutes later, every lightpole on Broad St. was bare.

Down on the street with the rest of the people who weren't brave enough to climb up a lightpole, I was showing off some of the fantastic moves I had mentioned a few paragraphs ago.  Apparently, some people appreciate moves like that because a circle opened up around me for a few seconds.  I locked eyes with a guy across the circle from me, and he suggested by his body language that he appreciated my passion.  He moved quickly towards me when I realized that he was holding a bottle of champagne, and it had one destination written all over it, my bald head.  As I prepared for my first bubbly shower, I got into a wide open stance, raised my arms towards the heavens, and let out my best manly war scream.  This right here, was the best moment of my entire life.  My eyes have never felt such a sting, but wow was it an incredible feeling.  I cannot describe the awesome-ness of the situation, but it was pure, and it was magical.  On a side note, I still think the players who wear goggles during the celebrations in the locker rooms are pussies.  Chase Utley doesn't wear any bitch-ass goggles, and neither does Jeff Kaplan.

We partied on Broad St for about 2 hours or so, before my lungs told me that they had enough for the night, and were not going to let me scream any more.  The crowd also was getting a restless at this point, and things were starting to break.  I still don't understand why when people party, they feel the need to destroy other people's property.  But this is a happy entry, so we're going to focus on the positives and not the drunken idiots who threw a trash can through an FYE window and looted the store.  Throw a trash can and loot because their prices are ridiculous and their business model is horrendous in today's market, not because the Phillies won the World Series!

During the course of our party on Broad St, I must have hugged Raj, Kanad, and Julie at least 500 times.  I still couldn't believe how perfect the situation was, seeing the Phillies win the World Series, surrounded by my 3 best friends, and partying with thousands of Phillies fans who shared my passion.  There are very few moments in life that come together absolutely perfectly, and I am extremely thankful I was able to experience one of them.  Needless to say, I am going to remember it for the rest of my life, and it will be a story I am able to tell my grandkids about when I am old and wise.

I am sure that there are hundreds of little moments that I could tell you about, but since this is day 6 of me writing this entry, I'm going to put the pen down now.  It's been an absolute blast writing this, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it, as well.  I hope I'll be able to write another entry exactly like this, just much, much shorter, when the Phillies win the World Series again in 2009.

 

Song of the Day:  The Roots - !!!!!!!!

Bonus Easter Egg: Just For You!!

While I was in Pittsburgh, Joey D. introduced me to a new SNL Digital Short that is freakin' hilarious.  Most of you have probably seen it by now, but if you haven't, I've listed the link here for your viewing "pleasure."  Wow, nice double entendre, Kaps.  Anyway, here is

"Jizz in My Pants."

P.S. - Check for the cameo.  I'll give you a hint, it's the janitor.  And on a side note, Jamie Lynn Sigler is really hot.  That is all.

Song of the Day:  Talib Kweli - Guerilla Monsoon Rap

I Passed Out on the Bathroom Floor? A Pittsburgh Recap

Sorry for the delay and overall lack of posting recently.  I've been working 12-13 hour days and just haven't had the time to get on the blog.  Trust me, there will be a post or 2 relating to this topic in the coming days.  But today, it's on to happier topics like my trip to Pittsburgh last weekend.

Last weekend was simply put, one of the best weekends I've had in a very long time.  It actually started off quite treacherously, no not because of wine bonging, but because of PennDOT.  On the way out to Pittsburgh at around 1 AM, I hit some heavy snow about 25 miles west of Exit 57 on the turnpike.  Of course, PennDOT had the night off, (when don't they?) and decided not to salt or plow the roads.  I was able to hit a super fast 35 MPH the rest of the way, and I was seriously blowing cars away.  Gotta love PennDOT!  Anyway, I did arrive safely to Amy's place around 2 AM and tried to get to sleep shortly after for my 6:45 wakeup call to get to work.

I woke up around 6:45 and walked through the snow to the bus stop with Amy and Casey (we were all working in the same building).  {9 hours of unnecessary material deleted.}  Then, Amy and I left the US Steel Building around 4:30.

Friday night consisted of many Captain n' Cokes and a bunch of my best friends coming over to Mikey's place (my old stomping grounds) to hang out.  We did absolutely nothing special, just chilled, drank, and BSed for a few hours.  It was fantastic.  At first it seemed a little weird being back in Pittsburgh.  I hadn't been back for about 3 months, and I didn't want to feel distanced from the whole thing.  But after surveying the room and checking out the scene, I knew I was in the right place.  I just felt right.  I always look forward to going to Pittsburgh, and it's not because I do extremely rare or special things when I'm there.  Simply put, the last 4 years of my life were spent there, and I feel like I established some solid roots in that time.  Moving back to Philly and uprooting again may or may not have been a good decision.  I did decide that night that within the next year or so, there is an extremely high probability I will move back.  I don't like to use absolutes like "definitely" or anything like that, but suffice it to say that I won't be surprised if my zip code in a year is 15223 or something like that.

After hanging at my bro's for a while, we made our way to Gene's Place, my favorite dive bar in Oakland, or anywhere for that matter.  The night got a little hazy at that point, and I don't remember all that much.  Apparently we came back to my brother's place and I puked in both bathrooms over the next hour.  Lesson #1 kids, your tolerance goes to shit after college.  Apparently, after puke #2 I passed out on the bathroom floor.  My brother found me there a little bit later and had to pick me up from the floor.  Next thing I know, it's 10 AM and my parents are calling.  There's nothing like re-living your undergrad years!

I spent most of Saturday with Yan at Piper's, my favorite soccer bar in Pittsburgh, or anywhere for that matter.  We had a nice heart-to-heart (very manly) and got to talking about our plans for the upcoming years.  Add a few more points to the "Reasons I Need to Come Back to Pittsburgh" tally.  In all seriousness, it was really good to catch up.  I don't get to talk to Yan, or many of you guys in Pittsburgh, nearly enough, and I cherish each opportunity I get to hang with you guys.  

Later that night, me, Mikey and his roommates went out to dinner.  On the way there, we were 2 minutes behind a nasty hit and run accident at Forbes and Bigelow.  Apparently, some guy ran a red light, smashed into a car, drove up on the sidewalk in front of Hillman Library, and drove away.  I think the driver of the innocent car was OK, thankfully.  I hope the other driver suffered internal bleeding and is lying in a ditch somewhere.  When we got to Union Grill, we were sitting at the bar waiting for our table, when this 65 year old guy sitting right next to us collapsed and was lying unconscious on the floor.  The typical, "Is anyone a doctor?" shit went down until a paramedic came over to check on this guy.  What was wrong with him?  Apparently, he was really fucked up (drunk) and just simply had too much and collapsed.  Are you kidding me?  Who does that over the age of 25?  Anyway, after witnessing what could have been death twice in an hour, I was extra cautious the rest of the night.

I spent the rest of the night at Joey D's Christmas party, which was an interesting mix of a college party and an adult party.  It was actually quite comical.  You could see half the people trying to act like adults, drink "adult" alcoholic beverages, look classy, talk about their jobs, and be home by 12:30.  The other half of the crowd was still acting like they did in college, drinking whatever was around, taking shots, wearing a tie because that was the theme of the party, and staying around until 4:00 AM.  Yours truly is not ashamed to say he still falls in the second category, and that is not going to change any time soon.  Let's leave that topic for another post at another time though.

On Sunday, I packed it up and got ready to leave, this time with a little more direction than I came in with.  It felt really good to get my head straight for 48 hours, and going to Pittsburgh and forgetting about my job was exactly what I needed.  I'm going to be back for New Year's, and I'm hoping to have just as much fun as I did last weekend.  I know it will be.  So until next time, see you later Pittsburgh, it's been real.

Song of the Day:  Ryan Adams - Come Pick Me Up

Good Morning, Pittsburgh

The wait is finally over (for me anyway); I'll be back in Pittsburgh this weekend.  I wanted to make sure plans were finalized before I posted, but I will most definitely be returning to the 'Burgh this weekend.  If things go right at my client site, I'll be up late Thursday night, and will work out of the Pittsburgh office on Friday.  My first time in the Steel Building, exciting.

If you're around, read this blog, and want to get hammered this weekend, please let me know.  That leaves like 2 whole people, but whatever.  It should be a good time, and I really freakin' need it.  Let the AHRN flow.

Song of the Day: Kanye West - Robocop