I showed up at Juan's, and he answered the door with phone in hand. He was leaving a message on with Jason about the itinerary for the day. There was a pre-game rally at the Savvis Center sponsored by Bud Light. He also told Jason not to forget the tickets for the game. In the process of leaving the message, Juan got an incoming call from his older bro. Derek answered the call, and started a conversation. After a while, I realized that Juan was saying, word for damn word, the voicemail that he had just left on Jason's phone. I started to lip-sync the conversation, which distracted the high holy shit out of Derek. After the talk, Donjon grabbed his luggage, and decided to mound up in the Double D 40.
Once we were all loaded up in my trusty Pontiac Bonneville, I threw that son of a bitch in reverse, whipped it out of Juan's driveway, and put the petal to the floor in order to get to St. Louis as fast as possible. Juan and I were both so pumped about this day, that we had both burned CD's with setlists tailored to the situation. My CD was labeled Blues vs. De-toilet. Derek had two CD's made, "Shut up and Dance," and "Stoop Favorites." We rocked out hellaciously on the way to the 'Lou.
When we arrived in Downtown St. Louis, our first objective was to find out where our hotel was. And after taking about six wrong turns, and asking for directions multiple times, we arrived at the elegant Holiday Inn. We grabbed our gear, and headed for the front desk. Juan immediately asked the lady where we should go if we wanted to get wasted before the Blues game. The lady had a few suggestions, but we decided to proceed on foot, since it was such a nice day.
Derek and I walked for a few blocks, before finding a bar. The name of the bar was something like "Saint Jack's Pad." Donjon called it "St. Pad Whacker's Jack Wacking Pad." Which made me laugh so hard that I almost pissed my pants, I shit you not. We asked for a few beers, and started watching the Cardinals playoff game that was on TV. The smoking hot waitress walked up to as, and said, "Hey, you guys going to the Blues game?" I looked at my Blues jersey, then at Derek's Blues jersey, and said, "What gives you that idea?" She said, "What's the deal, they totally suck this year."
Derek and I looked at each other in disgust, the bitch got our beers, and set out our fifty cents worth of change. I told her, "Well you can forget about a tip," and grabbed my fifty cents. Derek was a little more forgiving. "You can keep the change, but why do you have to rip on the Blues like that?" She walked away, and after two minutes, Donjon said, "Fuck it" and grabbed his fifty cents off of the bar.
After a few more beers, we decided to leave St. Pad Whacker's Jack Whacking Pad, and move to another bar before the pre-game rally. We walked to some Italian joint, and got a pair of brewskis. One of the locals started a conversation with Juan about Ohio. And as this drunken retard rambled on and on about pointless shit, I walked off to call my mom.
Why would I call my mom in a situation like this? I'll tell you why, my mom's birthday happened to coincide with the Blue's home-opener, so after telling my mom happy birthday, I decided that Juan and I should make our way to the Blues pre-game rally.
After getting directions from the mongoloid at the bar, we found ourselves at the Savvis Center. We saw no sign of the pre-game rally, so we asked a real ghetto-looking guy, and he said, "Yeah, there's all kinds of motherfuckas on that side of the building." We thanked the guy, and then, out of fucking nowhere the guy says:
"Hey, I'll sell you dis belt for fifteen bucks, man."
Derek: "What!?!"
Homeboy: "Yeah man, check it out, I got dis brand new Dickies belt man, only fifteen bucks."
Double D: "Sorry dude, I'm too fucking fat for a belt."
Homeboy: "Ha ha, alright den."
As we approached the front of the building, we could see a crowd of people. Derek began going apeshit, he high-fived at least 30 people in the crowd; yelling shit like, "LET'S GO BLUES" and "FUCK DE-TOILET!!!!" Shortly thereafter, we met up with Smoky and Riebling at the rally.
We were all eager to grab a beer, but apparently, we had showed up before the booze. In what seemed like an eternity, but was actually 30 minutes, we paced up and down the entrance to the Savvis Center asking anybody with a nametag where in the hell the booze was. We then saw a big Budweiser trailer pulling into the pandemonium of the rally, and, I shit you not, an official Budweiser Clydesdale was brought out to mingle with the people. Donjon said, "I want to hop on good old Rusty there and ride him to a fucking bar." As we all stood there, looking at the beast, I noticed that he was kind of scanning the crowd.
Double D: "What do you guys think that horse in thinking right now?"
Riebs: "Let's go Blues?"
Smoky: "Fuck Detroit?"
Donjon: "I need a guld-dern beer?"
Double D: "No, he's thinking: I have a bigger DICK than everyone here."
When we saw the coolers labeled Bud Light and Budweiser rolling out from the building, we muscled our way to the front of the line. The Soup de Jour was 24 ouncers of Bud and Bud Light: for eight fucking dollars. Completely unphased by the price, and noticing the long-ass line for beer, we each bought two a piece.
Once we got our liquor, our crew was in a good mood, and ready to rock out. And the band that was playing did not disappoint, they played classics 'til the break of dawn. While rocking out to the band, we noticed that Bernie Federko was in the house. Federko was trailed by the new addition to the St. Louis Blues announcing team John Kelly, but Juan was not impressed.
This is what Derek yelled at Bernie, and keep in mind that the new announcer was trailing Federko by at the most three feet:
BERNIE!!,
BERNIE!!!
I MISS KEN WILSON, AND I KNOW YOU DO TOO!!
I swear that Federko cracked a smile, and moved on.
Bernie positioned himself in a spot for some autographs; and our crew was among the first in line. Derek approached Number 24 with this line, "I love you Bernie Federko." He then lifted the jersey and showed Federko his "Piss on De-toilet" shirt. Bernie got a chuckle out of that one. After Juan got his autograph, he took one step to the left of Bernie, and just stood there. Everyone else that got an autograph left the Hall of Fame Bluenote along, but Derek was not done talking to Mr. Federko.
Juan: "I Love you Bernie."
Bernie (while signing an autograph): "Thanks"
Juan: "No, I really love you man, I missed hockey so much, I live in Ohio now, and the fans there SUCK."
Bernie (while signing another autograph, and looking a little nervous): "Is that right?"
Juan: "You are THE MAN Bernie, I miss Ken Wilson, how about you?"
Double D: "Derek, let's go get another beer, and let Mr. Federko get back to business."
Juan: "Alright, well, see you later Bernie, you are THE MAN!"
After a few more beers, it was time for the beginning of the Blues home-opener. Derek and I entered the arena, and we both immediately looked to the upper deck for our seat. (because every seat that we've ever had has been in the upper deck)
We then realized that we had bought tickets for 'good' seats. We both rotated our heads from the top section to the bottom section of the arena, and our guide said, "Right this way, gentlemen."
Derek and I looked at each other with a 'holy shit' face, and made our way to our seats, which were three rows from the glass in the corner of the rink.
We found Jason waiting there for us, and we settled in with a few beers, and anxiously awaited the start of the Blues-Detroit war. There was a diverse crowd in our vicinity. There was a couple to my left, I'm guessing that they were in their early 40's, but that didn't stop me from checking out the female that was sitting on my left. She was a Blues fan, and her date was a Red Wings Commie-Bastard. The opposite was true for the couple behind us, the 20-something female was a Red Wings sympathizer, and the dude was a Blues fan, and, like us, was also a fan of drinking. In front of us, was a no-balls pussy loser in a Steve Yzerman jersey.
Given the fact that we had so many Octopussies in our midst led to some heated debates during the game. About 9 minutes, and countless beers into the first period, the Blues scored on a power play. Needless to say, we were going apeshit. We celebrated to the fullest, and it was a good thing too, because the Red Wings would proceed to go ahead by three goals in the second period. The Commie-Bastards in the area were not shy about letting us know the score. The 20-something female behind us was particularly harsh. I looked at her date, and the guy said, "Dude, you can go ahead and smack her if you feel like it." I looked right into her eyes and said:
"I'm not going to smack you, but you are one COLD HARD BITCH!"
Everyone within earshot of the comment was shocked, and nobody made a sound until I pointed at her with both hands and said,
"Just kidding!"
Hilarity ensued.
In the third period, the Blues were a team on a mission, scoring two goals, and pulling within one goal of De-toilet. After each goal, Derek and I would stand up, take a drink, and turn around and look up to toast Smoky and Snatch who where sitting directly behind us...
...in the upper deck.
The attractive 40-year-old on my left whispered to me that we were going to win, and placed her hand high on my hip. While pitching a tent in my pants, I said, "I believe in miracles."
But, unfortunately, the Blues lost the game 4-3. Had Derek and I not been completely shit-faced, we would have been depressed, but instead, we were completely focused on hitting Laclede's Landing for the after-game party.
After the game, we met up with the MNT, and got our souvenir mini-Stanley Cups. Derek somehow managed to get two, even though he had no ticket stub. Then, in the middle of the pandemonium, we lost Derek. Smoky, Snatch, and I were standing outside the Savvis Center, when I got a call from Juan. He said, "DUDE, I'M AT THE BAR IN SAVVIS, AND YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO IS RIGHT BY ME, JOE FUCKING BUCK, I OFFERED TO BUY HIM A JAGER-BOMB, AND HE SIGNED MY SHIRT. HA HA HA, YOU'VE GO TO COME IN HERE DUDE!!!!"
I looked to my left, and through the class, I saw Derek going balls to the fucking wall inside the bar, he was laughing his ass off, and patting Joe on the back, pretty damn hard. I said, "Guys, we need to intervene here, for Joe's sake."
We infiltratrated the bar, and headed directly for Juan. I saw Mr. Buck and said, "Hey, Joe Buck, we're here to get this guy off your back."
Joe just laughed and said, "Thanks."
After extracting Juan, we made our way to the Holiday Inn so we could drop off our merchandise before heading to the landing. When we entered the lobby, we noticed that the hotel bar was open, so we stopped in for a cocktail.
The waitress's name was Nancy, I believe, but Derek would have no part of that.
Juan: "Hey, Bambi, when do you get done working?"
Nancy (Bambi): "In about 30 minutes."
Juan: "You should totally come out to the bars with us."
Bambi: "I don't think that would be a good idea."
Juan: "Oh, do you have a boyfriend, he'll understand, what's his name?"
Bambi: "Husband."
Juan: "Oh."
Juan was in rare form that night. He was taking shots of beer from his mini-Stanley Cup, and pouring most of the beer on the bar.
He used every line in his arsenal to try and convince Bambi to come out and drink with us. I even jumped in with a really good line, and I can't remember it, which is a damn shame, because it was a really good line, even Bambi was impressed, she said, "Wow, that was a good one."
But I had nothing on Juan, at one point, he pulled out this gem:
"Bambi, I don't know how to say this, but I'm kind of a big deal...
People know me...
...People like Joe Buck."
My pick for the best line of the night was:
Juan: "Hey Bambi, would you like guys who wear hats?"
Bambi: "Sure Derek."
Derek then started to root around in his bag, he pulled out a hat, slapped that sum-umma bitch on his head and said, "Alright, let's go!"
Even the other people at the bar were laughing at that one.
After closing out the hotel bar, we dropped our gear off in the room and headed out to The Landing. We went to Morgan Street, and the consumption of alcohol continued. After a few games of pool, I walked out to the balcony and saw Derek and two fine looking ladies from about 50 feet away. I kept my distance, it's always been my style to let the players play, and to never interrupt a homey working game. I was about to leave when I saw the two chicks kiss each other.
Needless to say, they had my attention. As I stood there with a look of amazement and wonder on my face, the ladies noticed me, and waved. At this point, I said to myself, "Fuck it, I'm going in." I walked up to the trio, and was introduced to the chicks. One of the chicks was wearing Derek's jersey. The other said that she wanted to wear my jersey, I said, “Now why should I let you wear my jersey, this thing is autographed by Bernie Federko."
The girl said, "What if I kiss her?"
I said, "I reluctantly accept your offer."
After watching the two ladies kiss each other, and thanking the Good Lord Above, the four of us walked back into the bar. Derek and I were in the back, and I leaned over to Juan and said, "Damn, Donjon and Doerr never looked so good."
After a few cocktails, the females continued to make out with each other, and we all continued to love every damn second of it.
After a while, I found myself is an unusual situation: On the dancefloor, sandwiched between two chicks.
I had two chicks grinding on me for the better part of an hour, and the largest grin in recent memory was on my face for the duration of it.
After my 67th piss of the night, I came out of the bathroom to find that the girls were nowhere to be found. I did manage to find Smoky, Snatch, and Juan sitting a table, looking bored as hell. We headed for the hotel. We broke up into two groups: Smoky and I (The Beer Cup Champions), and Juan and Snatch. Smoky and I took a side journey to the Mississippi River, to take a look at the Arch, and throw some bottle caps into the dirtiest river known to man. Then we set out for the Holiday Inn. After a few blocks, Smoky and I disagreed on which way to go, we separated, and after a few blocks, I got directions from a guy who I can only compare to Crack-Head Ezel from the movie Friday. He told me that Smoky was on the right track, and he said he’d walk with me to the hotel. Then, out of nowhere, we see Juan and Snatch from a block away. All I hear is Smoky yell, "NO FUCKIN WAY!!!"
As we approached the rest of the crew, Crack-Head Ezel leaned over and said, "Hey man, you need to buy some rocks?"
I said, "No man, I'm cool, thanks for the directions though."
We finally got back to the hotel, everyone of us walked in, and passed the fuck out.
We would need our rest, because we were heading to Cape Girardeau the next day.