As I’m sitting in my 8 a.m. Friday class and my teacher is going over the importance of cell walls in plants, I can’t help but think about how I won eight games of beer pong in a row the night before on Thirsty Thursday which had me feeling like Latrell Sprewell knocking down nine straight threes. As my mind wanders I start to think about my plans for tonight: pound some beers like the Fridge.
Two problems. I’m not 21 and I drank all the Red Dog and Natty Light the night before (yeah I know it’s awful beer but hey I’m broke). As I ignore my teacher’s comments about cellulose, I set up my booze carry-out rotation the same way Dusty Baker used to set his for the Cubbies before the “incident”.
I write down my five-man rotation next to my notes of this time-consuming biology course that has nothing to do with my major. Sometimes your ace has either been used too much or is busy, so I need to go deep into my rotation if I’m going to have any chance of making this night epic. Here’s what my rotation looks like.
The first man in my rotation: Clayton Kershaw, Nolan Ryan, or Roger Clemens. My best friend who was lucky enough to be born a couple months before me is my ace. He’s usually drinking with me so he just buys whatever I ask for. For some their ace is their parents, but for the rest of us who would just rather not have that conversation, we just ask our best friends.
My best friend is out of town for the weekend, so I’m forced to call a friend who shared the same high school with me but she was a couple years older. I occasionally drink with her, but we don’t talk too often. She’s just like Mike Mussina or Tom Glavine.
My second man is too busy doing upper classmen things, so I have to resort to my friend with the fake id (hopefully made by Screech). She is a year younger than I am but has the ID that says she can legally buy alcohol. She’s my Doug Fister.
If the third man no longer wants to risk her criminal record on my behalf, I have to dig deeper. I have a Biology lab partner from a year ago who I literally only talk to when I need alcohol. I text him “hey”, and he responds with “what kind would you like?” You feel bad for using them, but hey a man has needs. This is just like trotting out the current version of Dan Haren.
When all else fails look over to the guy who walked into class ten minutes late and is obviously more hungover than you are and give him a nod that acknowledges you know his pain. Make quick friends with him and see what happens. Chances are it will fail like Carly Rae Jepsen but hey thank God it’s Friday. Even Phil Hughes gets a win every now and then.
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