Brewers Droop as Miller Crime Terrorizes Wisconsin

Tap runs dry as the Class of 2005 takes Milwaukee

By: Paul Capper

Posted: 9/30/04

It is said that for many in dire poverty, the only way to escape the trials and tragedies of life is to venture through the inn door. It is appropriate and heart-warming, then, that the city of Milwaukee is America's brewing home, for rarely can a metropolis have depressed a population so. The Class of 2005 (TCOTTAF) was represented by almost fifty hardy souls prepared to inflict Milwaukee on their eyes in exchange for the chance to sample the area's two major attractions - the Miller Brewery tour, and a Milwaukee Brewers game at neighboring Miller Park - as part of the enCore festivities planned to welcome students back to school.

Founded in 1855 by renowned German brewer Frederick J. Miller, the Miller Brewing Company is one of the world's largest providers of alcoholic glee. The Milwaukee plant that Miller established is America's oldest major brewery, and these days is also one of Milwaukee's biggest tourist pulls, drawing 200,000 visitors a year. More than half of the brewery's output goes to the Chicago area, and the class was held in raptures as the fate of the yeast hand-carried from the central plains of Europe unfolded before their eyes. As one insightful questioner put it, "So when do we get to drink this stuff anyway?"

It would take the entire output of Milwaukee's independent, locally owned Lakefront Brewery just to provide free samples to the visitors to Miller each year, which some might say would be a good idea. TCOTTAF has never been a discerning boozer, however, and it gratefully lapped up the watery offerings provided by the jovial bar steward appointed to administer proceedings as the sham of a tour gave way to a drinking session.

First - joy of joys - each classmate was provided with a thimble of Miller Lite. Oh, how the senses delighted. Next, to ever-greater acclaim, small goblets of Icehouse were brought forth. Not a single table in the Teutonic Beer Kellar-style room failed to pass mirthful comment on the similarity in the taste of the two brews. And then throw peanuts at a neighbor.

Amid scenes of revelry not seen in these parts since Roosevelt repealed the 18th Amendment, a third beverage was then produced by the mop-haired fop in charge. This, to loud approval from the floor, was the champagne of beers itself: it was the High Life. Testicles tightened involuntarily around the room. "One more round!" shrieked the ecstatic hordes, but - alas - the tap had run dry, and so TCOTTAF burped loudly and exited in the direction of the distinctive, wing-shaped stands of Miller Park.

Bernie Brewer (the "lovable" Brewers character who slid into a beer stein after every Brewer homerun at County Stadium) made the move from the Brewers' previous home and is now located at Bernie's Dugout in left field at Miller Park. Although Bernie still slides down a slide whenever a Brewer player hits a homerun, his alco-chalet and the huge beer stein he used to slide into did not move with him. One can only assume that the earnest rectitude that has deemed the term "Brats & ****" too troublesome for intelligent aspiring leaders did for Bernie's bath too. Shame.

Given that the Brewers have now lost nine from ten and lie bottom of the National League Central Division, the only action the reformed alcoholic bear was likely to see on this occasion was the post-game revelry of the St. Louis Cardinals, who created a new tradition by throwing themselves down Bernie's slide in celebration of clinching the Division title 39 minutes before Milwaukee's Jorge De La Rosa threw his first pitch at Miller Park. Once the Florida Marlins had beaten our own Cubbies in the second game of a doubleheader in Miami, the Cardinals had nothing to play for but pride and an excuse to party.

Settling into excellent seats in an impressive stadium that the official attendance dishonestly claimed was a third full, TCOTTAF gorged itself on nachos ($36), peanuts ($23) and brats ($164), as well as more of the production line from the big factory across the street. Inevitably, many minds also concentrated on the powerful 'natural monopoly' that sports franchises constitute and the morally dubious microeconomic effects thereof.

Meanwhile, back in the diamond, a brief Brewers revival was going on. At the top of both the seventh and eighth innings, the alcoholic adventurers stood proudly a run ahead of the new Division champions, but on each occasion St. Louis were able to draw level before the game reached its beery dénouement in the 9th. Brewers relief pitcher Dan Kolb spent less than a full inning on the mound, during which time he allowed four hits, a walk and three runs, and suffered the humiliation of being replaced immediately by rookie Pedro Liriano. Afterwards, he had an argument with his girlfriend, stubbed his toe on the curb and locked himself out of his car.

"I knew it was a nightmare when I came in," said Kolb. "I didn't have a feel for anything. I didn't have location on my fastball. My slider wasn't there. It was more like a curveball. It was terrible. I just sat too long. I didn't get the job done. By the time next year rolls around, I have to figure out a way to stay sharp." The class of 2005 concurred: "He was absolutely shit," commented Joe Castillo.

Back in the stands, there was a stand-off over standing. The merry exchanges between classmates were soured by the intervention of the local militia in the form of two overweight mustachioed sheriffs. The Miller crime? Despite the 457 rows of empty seats between the GSB enclave and the next spectators, the lack of action elsewhere and the 6th inning closure of the donut stall saw the gruff, twelve-fingered authoritarians object to the occasional standing of the lively, cosmopolitan visitors from the south. No matter - the day was nearly over. And so it was that TCOTTAF wended its merry way back towards its bus, a fetal slumber, and the attractive skyline of Chicago.