Before a game, you've got to stop at Kelly's Bleachers.
Where we'll be spending our early evening. Miller Park.
Here we are outside, ready to enjoy outrageously expensive concessions. Don't tell Mike or Shawn, but they don't serve Coors or Budweiser products inside. It's all Milwaukee brewed, baby!
Obligatory statue to Mr. Henry Aaron, whose 755 home runs could be eclipsed this night.
A view of the park. As you can probably tell, our tickets are less than ideal. Oh well, they were cheap.
And Barry puts one foul, before he grounds out.
Mike and Mitch, with another stadium down in the quest to see them all.
Before the game, we all took bets on which tubed meat would win the Sausage Race. If you're not familiar, during every home game, a bunch of ethnic wursts run around the bases to see who's fastest. The crown votes before hand via text message. We all had $2 riding on it, so it's high stakes! I threw my basket with the Chorizo.
Go Chorizo!!!
Ah, sweet victory!
After the game we headed out to the Safehouse, and then over to Water St, where we met our high school friend Jenny. A great night in Milwaukee!
The next day we had to head out to Madison for a surprise golf outing with the birthday boy. It was NOT a pleasant morning, as Shawn attested to.
After a boot and rally from Shawn, it was picture time. As you can see, Donnie has already been blessed with "the shirt". It's gift that keeps on giving (from 1992). We made him golf the whole 9 holes in it.
Here's where the day got really interesting. First, we played as a scramble, with three teams of three. On the first hole, we were all at the tee box to watch Donnie hit off.
After this, it was my turn. The first whole is a dogleg right, which is perfect for my slice. I think, "just nail it, and watch it sail!" There was a lake to the left, with some assorted wildlife, but I wasn't concerned, as I almost never hook. I take a backswing, foreswing, and just SHANK THE BALL! This is no ordinary shank, either. It does one hop, then heads toward the lake at a high rate of speed.In the vicinity of a crane.
A protected species.
It can't happen...
Not a chance...
THUNK!
Yes, I hit the crane square in the head. Do you know how big a crane's head is in relation to a golf ball? The bird's head pendulumed once as the whole body flipped over in what seemed like super slo mo. No one knew how to react, although I think we all laughed our asses off at first. I go over to check on the bird, and it's lying on it's right side, breathing very slow. It doesn't respond to pokes with a driver.
"I killed the crane" is all I could think.
Fortunately, the bird got up about 15 minutes later, and even went for a swim. A serious concussion, at the least. I still think it just wanted to die in dignity, not on a golf course.
Anyways, after the hunt, we headed back to Donnie's for the party.
I think you actually need a permit to put that many candles on a cake! 
But I'll give Donnie credit, his old man lungs still managed to blow out all the candles in one breath.
Later that night, Mike and Shawn (after much consumption) did representations of the crane, before and after impact.
A great weekend, even if PETA is going to hunt me down now.
