Last year, as baseball card blogging's resident teacher, I handed out an assignment that soon grew into a complete beast of a phenomenon. This time around, the homework is more benevolent in nature, and no one will get the shakes when it's time to go to their mailbox. Get you spiral notebook and your number 2 pencil, you're about to jot down your next assignment.
If you're anything like me, you have a collection in your home that you don't really think of as a collection. Rather, you might have an accumulation of a certain item. If you've ever enjoyed a refreshing soda (not "pop," you backwoods fucking retards) at a ballgame, you've probably brought home the souvenir plastic cup in which it was sold to you, provided, of course, you bought a large enough size. For some reason, these things multiply like rabbits in my house, but I can never really bring myself to throw them away. These cups regularly hold water, as most normal people refrain from consuming that much soda whilst within their own home. Sometimes they're tall, and have to be stored on the very top shelf. Other times, they are constructed and printed using cost-cutting measures, and they fade well before their time.
Your assignment is this. Go and find some of your beloved stadium cups. They can be from any sport, but they must be a souvenir cup that came along for the ride with a 32 oz Mountain Dew or a gallon of Dr. Pepper. Absolutely no gift shop-purchased cups, and no glasses, either! If if didn't come with a liquid in it, or you didn't get it at a sporting event, I have no interest in seeing it.
You have the end of this week and over the weekend to complete this assignment. Should you choose to turn it in on time, send me a link to your post, and I'll include a link to it. I will be producing another post of my own next Monday night. Today, you get to feast your eyes upon a few of the stadium cups I've accumulated over the last few years, a small part of an unintentional collection that grows with every passing year.
My first cup is a gold Brewers "tall boy." I usually go for the clear beverages at Miller Park. They seem to go down smoother than a brown soda following the 6-10 beers that get consumed in the parking lot. One side of the cup features the modern "Brewers" name script, accented by some fancy lightning. The ideal liquid for this cup would be Surge. Alas. No, really, alas. That shit was outstanding. Vault, its far cry of a replacement, is a focus-grouped nightmare beverage.
The other side of the cup continues the lightning motif above the standard "M-barley-Wisconsin outline" triumvirate. A simple cup for simple tastes.
Our next cup is a "super tall boy," the Burj Khalifa of stadium cups. I believe this was obtained last season. Whatever soda was in here has to live up to the stifling expectations established by the container's graphics. If a Brewers logo is barreling forth with enough force to tear through the cover of a baseball, that soda ought to refresh my face off.
The opposite side is a bit more subdued. In the foreground we see a dense thicket, reminiscent of the Menomonee River that runs through Miller Park land and the accompanying foliage. Blue-collar workers are doing their thing in front of Miller Park, while the capitalist fat cats soak up the rays inside, enjoying a rare weekday game.
This post's final cup is my favorite, and probably the oldest of the three. The front of this cup is nothing to write home about. It trots out the same tired old logo that we've seen a million times.
With the help of your ulna and radius, you can get a good look at some other beautiful logos. If you took one look at the front and gave up, I feel sorry for you right now. A simple turn lets you learn a little about the Brewers' affiliate situation. Here's our AAA farm team, the Nashville Sounds, along with the AA affiliate, the Huntsville Stars.
If you stopped looking after seeing those two, then there's no hope at all for you and you're just a quitter. Keep rotating this miracle of plastic, and you get to see the two single-A minor league teams affiliated with the Brewers at the time, the Brevard County Manatees and the West Virginia Power. The Power changed allegiances to the Pirates in 2009, but those Manatees can still be claimed as our own. Cutest mascot in baseball, I'd bet, but not so good around a propellor. Why I do not yet own a hat with a "sea cow" on it by now, I'll never know. "The Child of the Sea," they should be called, based upon their friendliness, their trusting nature, and their flabbergasting stupidity.
There you have it, folks, the post that kicks off this year's assignment. You have until Monday to write your own post about your beloved cups and send it to me. Looking forward to seeing your plastic treasures.