Ari Silverstein
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2010
- Messages
- 746
- Likes
- 0
We sat, on the Alpha's terrace, overlooking the rusted barbed fence, higher than the Lower Hudson field. Slurping our Mint Juleps, the smell of Bud Beer wafting through the spring air. It was Winter quarter, '70. :crazy:
Below our heroes took the field, nameless, faceless players, dodging the rocks and slipping on the sand, on our sandlot. The turf was brown as the dirt; we cared less. We were smashed and the yield from the greenhouse on the roof of the Tau's was sweet smelling, seedless and inexpensive. Cheech and Chong blared out of the old JBLs. We were higher than the Upper Hudson field. :whistling:
"Strike One" swore loudly the sporting official...from behind the mound. What a task he had, all bases, plates, safes and outs were his. We knew first class entertainment when we could barely see it!
opcorn:
The roundballers exchanged turns, often laying their gloves in the field for the use of their adversaries. Someone yelled "Forever Jefferson Davis" from the K. Sigma house and followed that with a roll down into right field, a Confederate flag swathed around his naked bodice. :blink:
I looked up, from my pile of vomit, cross-eyed and attentive as a hippie at midnight. :mf_surrender:
Baseball season was here. The joy had begun.
epper:
Below our heroes took the field, nameless, faceless players, dodging the rocks and slipping on the sand, on our sandlot. The turf was brown as the dirt; we cared less. We were smashed and the yield from the greenhouse on the roof of the Tau's was sweet smelling, seedless and inexpensive. Cheech and Chong blared out of the old JBLs. We were higher than the Upper Hudson field. :whistling:
"Strike One" swore loudly the sporting official...from behind the mound. What a task he had, all bases, plates, safes and outs were his. We knew first class entertainment when we could barely see it!
The roundballers exchanged turns, often laying their gloves in the field for the use of their adversaries. Someone yelled "Forever Jefferson Davis" from the K. Sigma house and followed that with a roll down into right field, a Confederate flag swathed around his naked bodice. :blink:
I looked up, from my pile of vomit, cross-eyed and attentive as a hippie at midnight. :mf_surrender:
Baseball season was here. The joy had begun.
Last edited: