July 12th, 2010
The Week That Was 7.11.10
Water, water everywhere, but not enough to rehydrate. I wish I could blame it on the beer, but the fact of the matter is we hardly drank during the Saint Arnold Brewery’s softball tournament Sunday. You see, we were too busy making a run to the championship game.
No, the Houston sun is at fault. This is what happens when you spend seven hours outdoors trying to relive some intramural softball glory you had back in the day. The glory was still there and our team even managed to create a few more memories to relive by the campfire when we tell our children how good daddy and mommy were at hitting a 16″ circumference ball on a barely little league regulation sized field.
A Load of Bull (Paul)
I work in La Porte. It’s a great place. So much culture. The nightlife is outstanding. The people are gracious and learned. The restaurant culture is second to none in the area. Actually, that last part is completely false; especially when it comes to my lunch hour. You have your choice of Mexican, BBQ and fast food chains and that’s about it. Thankfully I was introduced to Bullritos, which breaks through the rigamarole and has been helping me sever my dependency on McDonald’s. Honestly, I will put Bullritos up against any of the usual burrito places like Mission, Freebirds and Chipotle and they will undoubtedly hold their own. I promise you. The little franchise started by the people of Gringo’s is going to be popping up all around town. Get used to it and get into it. I promise you won’t be disappointed by the brainchild of the Houston local, Mexican dynasty.
Hot Island: Frosty Mug (Richard)
Saturday saw us having delightful weather in this rare mild July. Hot weather, cool weather, or cold snap, if it’s Summer, that’s reason enough to visit your local icehouse. And visit we did. With my relocation to the Heights upcoming in a month’s time, I figured I better start getting acquainted with my future terrain. Paul had mentioned Beer Island a time or two and along with it a curiosity of the experience it might offer. Heading in with my wife at the young hour of 1:00 p.m., we established our table on the patio, beneath one of a few fans. Only two beers were offered on tap that day, Blue Moon and Lone Star, but the bottles and cans offered an impressive selection of local and national craft brews. Saint Arnold, Southern Star and Real Ale were found representing Houston and Texas, respectively. These facts alone might warrant a return, but what made even more of an impression was the frosted mugs and $6.50 Lonestar pitcher specials. The conversation was forthcoming on that lazy afternoon as the Lone Star and Lawnmower acted as repeat offenders on the count of “delicious libation satiation.” Yeah, not an official term, but if Marc can have Man Police, surely we can have Beer Quality Assurance. It’s needed.
You Were Meant To Order Bacon (Richard)
“Can we order food here?”- Me “No, sometimes we have hot dogs, we’re really kind of more about beer.”- Beer Island (the Island?) So, having found no food and realizing that the collective growlings of our stomachs were something heard from starved monsters with hellacious appetites, we ditched the beach and sought shelter in the cooler caves,uh, I mean air conditioned surroundings of Onion Creek Cafe. A wise move, regardless of your philosophy on Drinking vs. Eating, Onion Creek offers both in fine form. After careful consideration on full stomachs, we decided that a cool interior was not where we were supposed to spend our evening and trecked back to the warmer exterior in search of a comfortable place to continue our thoughts and musings. Our place on the upper deck area happened to be in the path of the sweet smell of bacon coming from the kitchen, of which we were flooded with every other 15 minutes. We argued back and forth, whether or not ordering a side of bacon was the right thing to do, and further more if it was even possible. We decided that bacon and only bacon was in our destiny. We believed. We ordered. We enjoyed.
Friday Night Lights, Camera, Action (Paul)
I had big plans for myself this weekend. Unfortunately they got a little sidetracked by my (a) lack of ambition and (b) a twinge of a stomach ache still lingering from Thursday night but I had to pick myself up by the bootstraps and make my way out into the pre-midnight debauchery to celebrate a birthday. Even though this means I missed The Big Show over at Lawndale, I still managed to arrive at Mercer in fighting form. The first (and last) time that I went out to the club formerly known as Uropa, I was one of five people wandering between the three bars of the establishment. This time, people weren’t still nursing their New Year’s Eve hangover and were out and about. The music selection was stellar. By stellar, I mean they played stuff that I knew and there wasn’t a beat of Lady GaGa to be had. The Beastie Boys made a few appearances. Nelly’s songs from back when he actually mattered to the music scene got some play time and a healthy dose of Notrious B.I.G. pretty much rounded it all out. Does this mean that I was any more inclined to hit the dance floor? No. Did I actually hit the dance floor? Yes, but only because I didn’t want to be the only person in the birthday party leaning up against the bar looking like a creeper. I let my twinkle toes do all the creeping for me.
Take Me out to the Ballgame (Marc)
With our first game at 9AM, Team Loop Scoop stumbled out of bed and arrived at the field in the nick of time. While some of us were still drunk from the night before, we played a good game and came out on top, which meant that we had to wait until 2PM for our next game. That wasn’t a problem considering the taps opened after our game and the food arrived at 11:30. The real problem was deciding how much beer one could partake in and still manage to play softball in the sweltering midday sun. Somehow, even with the booze-hounds on our team, we managed to stay sober enough for our next game, a nail-biter that we won on Chris’s walk-off single and which secured our place in the championship game. Try as we might to bribe the umpires, it was to no avail and we couldn’t muster enough offense to over come Team David Hanks or the Line Steppers, whichever team name they decided to use. I still contend that if we had known the stakes going into the game, we would have mercy ruled them in the first inning. You can never underestimate the motivation of good beer, especially when it’s free. A big thanks to all the people who came out and played with us. This dedication goes out to you. It might not be accurate, but oh well. Make sure to note the black and white leotard. I think we’ll rock that as our uni’s next year. Sound good? The Loop Scoop would also like send a big thanks and congratulations out to St. Arnolds for putting on a great event. Is it too early to sign up for next year?