Above: pussy cat.
Intro
I hate Hamilton. I hate everything about it. The smell, the ugly, the roads and of course their football team — the Pussy Cats.
Begin
1:30pm: Pint of brew in the Indianapolis International Airport.
2:35pm: A duty free store this facility has not.
2:55pm: Take-off.
3:34pm: Ladies and gentlemen we are please to begin our in-flight service! Heineken!
4:35pm (Toronto): Fight with declaration card scanner. Card scanner wins.
Most sophisticated pile of shit ever constructed. Make sure you put a ‘$’ preceding the total value of your goods ($0 in my case) or the grade 3 teacher inside this machine won’t let you back into the country.
5:01pm: On the 407 towards the Arm Pit of Ontario.
5:45pm: Traffic, remarkably, has been exceptional until the 407/QEW interchange at which point it’s become a parking lot because some drunk dump truck driver left his box up. Strangely, I am not shocked by this.
Kevin Glenn behind the wheel?
6:10pm: Parked.
6:11pm: GAME TIME!
I’m back Hamilton!
6:25pm: The only two places you can drink in this dump are behind the end zone, which is the only place you can see the field, or a stupid corner behind the grand stands where you can’t see a thing. I have no idea who Ron Joyce is but fuck his stadium!
Ah it says here that he’s the billionaire co-founder of Tim Horton’s. Well that explains everything!
“The only thing anyone is allowed to drink in MY stadium is a double double!” -Ron Joyce
6:26pm: Ah, finally found a watering hole. Wait, FUCK!
Beer #1.
6:27pm: Another.
Beer #2
6:27pm: Finally making some progress. Beer #3. I will not be caught sober in Hamiltoe.
7:08pm: Football!
Great view, horrible benches.
Q1: Concourse
No beer anywhere.
Half Time: Lirim Hajrullahu Fan Club!
He had about 20 people up there wearing his number. Luckily Mr. Blurrycam was able to take our picture.
Getting a lot of texts saying the place looks empty. The reason is obvious because there’s probably 1000 people in the end zone beer garden and a long line to get in. Makes sense since it’s the only place you can watch football with a beer. Oh sippin’ seat why did I leave you at home!?!?
10:15 Q3: Met Lirim’s kicking coach from Western at the urinal. He’s NOT wearing a Bomber Jersey. WTF?!
1:21 Q3: Gulp.
2:00 Q4: I love to hate on quarterbacks so for his own sake Willy better win.
00:00: Holy shit! He won it!
HIGH FIVE!
10:05pm Coach O’Shea’s Mother in Law:
This is probably the first time I’ve ever wanted to be nice to the Bombers’ Head Coach’s mom.
10:30pm: Ordered Rotten Ronnie’s.
10:50pm: Received Rotten Ronnie’s.
11:11pm: Dropped off at the GO Station. Last GO Train home left at 11:06, damn you Rotten Ronnie and your slower than shit service!
Outro
There’s nothing like snatching victory from the jaws of defeat, especially as a visitor. It’s a taste sampled long ago and was much, MUCH better than I remember. This win felt so good I wasn’t even mad about paying for the $120 cab ride home. That actually happened.
Thanks for driving Lee!
YOU’RE NEXT TORONTO! See you all there on Tuesday!
bbbblllLLLLLUUUUEEEEE!!!!!!
A mixture of dark or milk chocolates with butterfat and, in some cases,
hardened coconut oil the “American truffle” is a half-egg shaped.
Fiber helps you to feel full with less calories inside you, and to
regulate the way that your body takes in nutrients. The
flavor is fabulous (we actually like it better than regular PB), and
it’s great spread on apples for dessert.