Suburban Wino 2: The Wordpress Experiment

Lunker Bass, Single-Vineyard Pinots, and Ugly Orange Tank-Tops

Every August marks another notch in the 38 to 40-sized belt of the leisure sport circuit. Neighbor, friend, and Jim Mora Jr. look-alike Michael “Bliggity” Blank hosts his annual Blankmasters Classic, bringing together some of the most non-notable names in the world of fishing. Basically, teams of two try to catch-and-release as many fish as possible in a 3 hour timeframe. The teams are also in the running for “best team name”, so coming to the plate with a good one is as important- if not more- than winning the tournament. And with all due respect to this year’s winning team name (“Weapons of Bass Destruction”), I feel my teammate and I hit the jackpot 4 years ago with “Nuclear Fishin'”, so we’ve been hesitant to change. Plus, a new team name means we’d have to spend money on new shirts, and that just ain’t happenin’.

Four years ago, I felt great. I thought my teammate- The “Bathunter” (long story)- and I had it in the bag. I’ve fished a good bit in my life, and I thought BH would surely come to play. Long story short, he showed up drunk, fell in the pond, and we didn’t catch a fish. In fact, my esteemed partner was honored with the booby prize: 2006 Worst Angler.

No big deal. We’d bounce back in 2007. Confident and cocky, we put our best foot forward. The result: see to the left. I was awarded 2007 Worst Angler. “Nuclear Fishin'” was two-for-two. And yes, that’s a trophy of a horse’s ass. Salt in the wounds, Bliggity.

2008: Maybe it was the bait. Nightcrawlers? Don’t bass love nightcrawlers? I guess not. Suddenly, a streak was going- a somewhat impressive streak, for all the wrong reasons. 3 years without a fish.

2009: Earlier this month, redemption was upon us. Hagood (aka “The Bathunter”) couldn’t catch a cold. Me? I threw my pole in the water on a cast. After retrieving it, the next cast ended up in the shorts of my friend Tony. Perhaps a low-point in “Nuclear Fishin’s” forgettable run? Well, if it’s any consolation, I did receive a trophy.

Screw you, Mike (and Matt, and Mark…the other two “referees”, who deemed me the pariah yet again).

Seriously, I hold the trophies in pretty high regard. In the end, it’s all about fun, and my dubious distinctions are there to remind me that it’s always a good idea to laugh at myself once in a while (or often, I guess).

My role in the day transcends bad fishing anyway. Being the only ones in the neighborhood left without kids, the wife and I host the after-party. While I tend to complain about it, I do enjoy it. Any excuse to have some friends over, crack some wine, eat something, and bust each others’ chops all night is one worth using. For anyone who thinks drinking wine has to be a sophisticated affair, let the following pictures dismiss that immediately (if the orange tank-tops didn’t already). Furthermore, like spotting a snow leopard in the wild, you- the audience- will get a rare glimpse into the disgusting glory that is a “Big Bite Contest”:

A motley crew of some great friends, always worthy of a great bottle of wine. Ben, aka Bathunter, is quite a wine geek himself, as you can see by his infatuation with the glass of Petit Verdot.

St. Supery 2005 Petit Verdot…a concentrated, heavy-duty prelude to what was to come: Pizzapocaypse.

I think there were maybe 10 people there. We ordered 10 pizzas. And while Domino’s is not my drug-of-choice in the world of pizza, they were $5 each, and happened to hit the spot at this late hour.

Some tasty single-vineyard Pinot Noir from Kokomo really worked well with the pizza. Really, anything worked well.

Great camera work, huh? I need a new one. Anyway, more Kokomo- this time, the Dry Creek Zin. Add sausage pizza. Enjoy. Repeat.

And of course, as promised, the infamous “Big Bite” contest…who’s gonna eat a whole piece of pizza in one bite? The tension is palpable. So, to occasional gluttony as a comedic device, I say Cheers, Sláinte, Salud, Prost, Skål, Konbe, and Kampai!