Meatloaf In The 4th
Its a sad, sad day for Meatheads all across America. Pimlico racetrack, home of The Preakness, recently announced they are no longer allowing BYO beer into the infield. Having participated in my fair share of infield activities (a long, long time ago), this is a tough one for me to swallow. The landscape of day long drinking while bett’n on the ponies and watching eye candy will be forever changed.
No longer will there be a forum for Meatheads to act out their callings and consequently the next generation will be missing out on so much. While my time was well before the running of the urinals (shown above), we did have Meatloaf in the 4th. The bottom line is: no matter your generation, anyone who has gone to Preakness has their own story to tell and it saddens me to think the next chapter of Preakness shenanigans will be written with beers that cost $3.50 a piece.
Therefore, in an effort to preserve my memories and share with the next generation the good times of Preakness past, when asked to tell a story before going to bed, I told my son the story of Meatloaf in the 4th:
A long long time ago, before mommy and daddy were married with kids they had a lot more disposable income and a lot more time on their hands. Consequently, every weekend was filled with hip and cool activities all across the country. One of mommy and daddy’s favorite annual rituals was to go visit Uncle Kevin in Baltimore and see horsies run around a track. But these weren’t just any horsies. These horsies were some of the fastest in the world and they all had wee little men called jockeys who rode on top of them. Sometimes daddy would pick the fastest horsie of the group and be rewarded with wonderful riches. It was truly a magical day.
Mommy and Daddy would call this day Preakness and it became so popular all of our friends would gather and ride in big yellow buses to this wonderland we called Pimlico. All of mommy and daddy’s friends would bring enormous coolers filled with daddy juice and they would have a huge picnic on the grass as the horsies ran around them. Every year seemed to become bigger and better then the last. The last time Mommy and Daddy went to see the horsies race, ironically the year before Mommy got pregnant, Daddy had the great idea to take Uncle Scott to a costume store, dress him up as a jockey and turn him into one of the wee little men that rode atop the horsies.
My son inturupts my story: “but daddy, Uncle Scott is not a wee little man. Isn’t he the same man you have a 800 lb marble bust of? Wasnt he a D1 linemen and wouldnt he hurt a horsie if he sat on them.
Founding Father: “that’s what you call satire, son. Now close your eyes and listen to the rest of the story”
So, Uncle Scott, though very large in stature, was dressed as a wee little man. He had a helmet, whip, jockey pants, even boots, a silk and goggles. Daddy had to pay an extra $100 damage deposit to rent this costume because of how authentic it was. Anyway, on this particular day, Uncle Scott was dressed as a jockey and all of mommy and Daddy’s friends headed into the land of Pimlico for the picnic. It was a long, long day so we drank daddy juice from the wee hours of the morning till the wee hours of the night to keep us festive and happy.
On that day, everyone was happy. Uncle Scott was particularly happy because the entire land of Pimlico believed he was going to be racing “Meatloaf in the fourth“. Word spread quickly that Meatloaf’s jockey was walking among the people and princesses from all across the land would come up and ask to get their picture taken with Uncle Scott. Now, Uncle Scott was used to interacting with big ugly Ogers and monsters, so this was a particularly special day for him to laugh and play with some of the most beautiful princesses in all the land. And while many of the princesses had brains the size of peas, they certainly made up for it in other areas. The prospect of Uncle Scott racing that day made the princesses adore him and do wonderful things in his presence. Daddy and all his friends were very appreciative of all the princesses that came to see Uncle Scott that day. Many princesses bore gifts so big and beautiful, they will be forever etched in daddy’s mind.
The End.
Be A Man.
-The Founding Father
Filed under: Beer, Humor, Seasonal, Sports & Leisure
