We have the single-A Yankee affiliate that plays about 3 miles from our home. It’s a nice little bike ride to get over there, and tickets to get into the place are only $4. But Wednesdays are all-you-can-eat / drink for $20.
That includes beer, folks.
That’s all well and good, but they actually seem to encourage gluttony of the fans. They keep a leader board to track your digestive heroics, and then, whoever eats the most hamburgers / hot dogs gets a t-shirt! Likewise…whoever drinks the most beer gets a t-shirt.
Let me depart from my original train of thought to talk about the strange power that free t-shirts hold over my fellow man…
It’s a t-shirt. It’s likely a white, gigantic, see-through piece of cloth with advertising logos enveloping it.
Yet…people go all Tom Cruise when one starts to fly in their direction…
Jumpin’ on seats with outstretched arms, scaring those around them with manic flailings and noises. They look like they’re one step away from protesting mainstream psychiatry.
People will do stupid, stupid, stupid things for free t-shirts.
It’s the word “free.” It turns our brains into diarrhea. A “free” t-shirt is simply the worst reward that I can think of for downing 13 beers in 3.5 hours (13 is what the “winner” finished the evening with).
Drinking beer should be its own reward.
20 oz beers are normally $3.75 (which is pretty good by ball park standards), so Mr. Free T-shirt drank $48.75 worth of beer. That’s a savings of $28.75! With that kind of thrift…he may just be able to afford the Betty Ford Clinic someday.
Anyways, Seth and I are no Kobayashi and Sonya Thomas, but I think we handled ourselves pretty well and ate our $40 worth. We may have gotten caught up in the excitement of a good ol’ fashioned gorge-fest, but I came to my senses as soon as it felt as though I may give birth to a food baby. My final tally read: 3 burgers, 2 hot dogs, 3 beer. It was a proud moment…followed by a moment of nausea…followed by the pride again.