Squash it.
I long for the days when people settled their beefs with a good old fashioned dance-off.
Someone trespassing on your turf? Break out the funky beats and battle on your front lawn. Someone hitting on your guy? Turn up the boombox and square off Electric Boogaloo style.
Yesterday, the Cards/Cubs rivalry brought out a certain nostalgia for the aforementioned judicial system at Al Hrabosky's Ballpark Saloon. Even though the day's game put the series at 2-0 in favor of the Cards, that didn't stop visiting Cubs fans from attempting to grab the upperhand with their footloose feet.
Berf, Jables' and Dinner's college buddy, drove down to St. Louis to attend the series and party it up. I'm not sure whether he knew he'd be participating in a series of dance-offs throughout the course of the day, but I personally think that these impromptu contests are his secret weapon. An objective bystander wouldn't guess that Berf, who stands at approximately ten feet tall, is any sort of dancing machine. However, in his signature wife beater and Aviator sunglasses, he proved that he was indeed a force to be reckoned with.
Berf commanded a crowd right away, as he pretended to double dutch while his friend Dusty twirled an imaginary rope. As a circle of patrons closed around him, there wasn't much the white girl battling him could do. She tried to hump the floor, she tried to grind on her gal pal, she tried to shake what her mama gave her. But, to no avail.
This is when the DJ noticed the commotion taking place in the corner of the bar. He brought a portable mic over to broadcast the play-by-play over the speakers. Berf immediately earned the nickname "Iceman." However, the tables were turned when the DJ (and Cardinals fan) performed an outstanding Michael Jackson impression. I joined him in the circle for a double dose of the moonwalk. He then led me in a surprise salsa routine, which resulted in a dramatic dip and perhaps a broken back.
Injuries aside, mission complete. The dance-off was decided. And it was a clean competition.
I wish McGwire and Sosa could have popped 'n locked (rather than juiced 'n corked) their way through the homerun race of '98.
Lastly, I've always wondered how the entire high school student body can bust out a pre-choreographed dance at the prom, but now I realize some things are just instinctive. Tonight, Cards fans across the country are simultaneously doing an dance move we like to call "The Sweep." We didn't even need to practice.
Someone trespassing on your turf? Break out the funky beats and battle on your front lawn. Someone hitting on your guy? Turn up the boombox and square off Electric Boogaloo style.
Yesterday, the Cards/Cubs rivalry brought out a certain nostalgia for the aforementioned judicial system at Al Hrabosky's Ballpark Saloon. Even though the day's game put the series at 2-0 in favor of the Cards, that didn't stop visiting Cubs fans from attempting to grab the upperhand with their footloose feet.
Berf, Jables' and Dinner's college buddy, drove down to St. Louis to attend the series and party it up. I'm not sure whether he knew he'd be participating in a series of dance-offs throughout the course of the day, but I personally think that these impromptu contests are his secret weapon. An objective bystander wouldn't guess that Berf, who stands at approximately ten feet tall, is any sort of dancing machine. However, in his signature wife beater and Aviator sunglasses, he proved that he was indeed a force to be reckoned with.
Berf commanded a crowd right away, as he pretended to double dutch while his friend Dusty twirled an imaginary rope. As a circle of patrons closed around him, there wasn't much the white girl battling him could do. She tried to hump the floor, she tried to grind on her gal pal, she tried to shake what her mama gave her. But, to no avail.
This is when the DJ noticed the commotion taking place in the corner of the bar. He brought a portable mic over to broadcast the play-by-play over the speakers. Berf immediately earned the nickname "Iceman." However, the tables were turned when the DJ (and Cardinals fan) performed an outstanding Michael Jackson impression. I joined him in the circle for a double dose of the moonwalk. He then led me in a surprise salsa routine, which resulted in a dramatic dip and perhaps a broken back.
Injuries aside, mission complete. The dance-off was decided. And it was a clean competition.
I wish McGwire and Sosa could have popped 'n locked (rather than juiced 'n corked) their way through the homerun race of '98.
Lastly, I've always wondered how the entire high school student body can bust out a pre-choreographed dance at the prom, but now I realize some things are just instinctive. Tonight, Cards fans across the country are simultaneously doing an dance move we like to call "The Sweep." We didn't even need to practice.
posted by quank at 2:58 PM
5 Comments:
Why do I love dance-off stories so much? I am always immensely entertained.
Word verfication: beibc
Wow. I missed a Dusty/Burf visit. Damn. I miss the good times in the LOU.
AND AND AND, despite your glee at excuting a sweep of my beloved, yet hapless Cubbies, remember that as far as series sweeps go, this year the Cubs lead the cards 2 to 1. (including a 4 gamer).
AND I know you will make the playoffs.
word verification: lame.
dinner, i knew you'd be the one to point out the two previous sweeps. the only difference is that you guys didn't perform the dance.
my apologies for misspelling burf as "berf." ;)
yeah, and cards fans still gloat over beating the cubs who, despite the generally crappy, underperforming and disappointing nature of the team, still seem to give the cards the business year after year...
we should probably just have a dance off...
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