as well. That Ueckeris a very funny fellow. During one game, he and the other announcer had a rather earnest conversation about the most ideal ways to toast bread."
Henry nodded. "I remember one time hearing Bob talk about winning a cow-milking contest when he played in the minor leagues. He said the cow wouldn't leave him alone after the contest, that she followed him around for days and that she was a pretty good date."
Nicole laughed, then coughed loudly, nearly spitting out the sip of beer she had just taken. She calmed and took another sip. "Kern," she asked, "do I have time for another beer?"
"Sure," he replied. "I haven't heard my songs on the jukebox yet."
Apparently, Todd overheard. "Kern, if you play 'Mountain Jam' again, I'm rejecting it. I'll give you a drink chip, but I don't wanna hear that song anymore tonight."
"Better give me my chip now," Kern replied.
Todd shot Kern a mildly angry look and tossed a red disk onto the bar. When it stopped bouncing, I picked it up and studied it. The chip bore the name of the bar on one side and on the other said, "good for one free large drink."
"That's pretty underhanded," Nicole said in a hushed whisper. "You didn't have time to listen to that song before the game anyway."
"A card laid is a card played," Kern said, shoving the chip into his pocket. "You want I should give back a free drink chip?"
"You're such a mercenary bastard," Henry said, emptying his drink and putting it down on the bar where it was easily visible to Todd. The bartender promptly picked up the glass and refilled it.
"Hey, that's what makes me such a good cab driver."
It was not until after seven when the three cab drivers managed to finish their drinks at the same time, and we were able to commence our journey to the ballpark. But who would drive? Henry volunteered, but was quickly vetoed.
"You're way too fucked up to drive," Kern protested.
"I will gladly drive," I said. "We can all fit in myToyota . The Muskies play at Warner Park, right? At Sherman and Northport?"
"Right, Count," Kern said, "and thanks. Now, who's willing to volunteer to explain the action to our good friend here who barely knows baseball from cricket?"
"I'll do it," Nicole said enthusiastically. "You can sit next to me and ask me any questions you want. Before the game's over, you'll know everything there is to know about baseball." She patted me gently on the shoulder, her hand lingering for just a moment.
Well, at least I was going to find out what a Muskie was.
****
It is rather queer how Americans swear allegiance to these professional sporting franchises, more queer still how so many of the teams have heroic names: The New York Yankees, commemorating that great mercantile tradition that helped build their country; the Dallas Cowboys, commemorating the so-called rugged individualism of the Wild West; and just a general sense of warlike fierceness embodied by Giants, Warriors, Falcons, Hawks and Raiders. However, it does seem these Americans, in their occasional confusion, seem to also honor malapropisms, what with the Los Angeles Lakers and the Utah Jazz.
ThisMadison baseball team must not have been very good, having taken their name from a fish. How silly of me not to have realized that this was the diminutive term for the muskellunge, that large, muscular, rather truculent member of the pike family, a great prize for sport anglers, sometimes known to attack ducks and other waterfowl with their sharp teeth, and even, on occasion, humans.
Signs in the parking lot at Warner Park, at the ticket booth and all around the entrance read, "Go Fish." At the main gate, someone wearing a costume of bright green nylon with glowing white teeth, crimson eyes and a spiny cobalt dorsal fin greeted fans, shaking hands and accepting warm pats on the back. The giant muskie posed for photographs with children who squealed with delight, and, in general, was on the receiving end of a great deal of genuinely warm adoration.
It was oddly gratifying to discover that these good Christians were indeed pagans. They worship fish! And why not? Lakes cover this glacier-scoured state ofWisconsin . Fish, the bounty of these sparkling bodies of water, provides sustenance for these good Christians, who, in tribute, make a Friday night tradition of attending fish-eating orgies and make their pilgrimage to Warner Park to pay homage to their Madison Muskies.