It's the kindness of baseball strangers that made Milwaukee, Wisconsin, The Beer Capital of the World, one of the most memorable stops on The Baseball Road Trip Of A Lifetime. Thanks to my new friends Seth, Kyle, and Kevin, I can proudly say that for one day, I was indeed part of The Brew Crew.
Beer, Brats and Baseball
That, in a nutshell, is the Milwaukee Brewers experience. So, thanks for reading!
Seriously, though (as serious as beer, grilled bratwursts and baseball can get), Wisconsinites are passionate. About their beer, and their brats. While football might be number one in their hearts, baseball is a close second. Actually, tailgating is probably second. Let's go with baseball at number three. Wait, tailgating might rank first. And cheese. We can't forget cheese. You know what? Let's forget about the order. Because they all go hand in hand. The tailgating, the baseball, the beer, the brats, the cheese; in concert, to deliver the ultimate Midwestern sporting experience. If there's such thing as dancing shoes, when you're in Wisconsin, you'll need your tailgating shoes.
It All Began With A Tweet
Twitter led me to The Brew Crew. Actually, it led The Brew Crew to me. And I'm thankful it did. Seth, a die-hard Milwaukee fan who lives an hour and a half north of the city, contacted me while I was out in Minneapolis. He'd been reading and enjoying Stealing Home, and it turned out we were scheduled to be at Miller Park on the same evening. Then came an offer of a pregame brew, and some tailgating; I was only more than happy to partake. It got even better: Seth kindly bought my ticket to the game, and, along with his friend Kyle, arranged for us to go on a tour of Lakefront Brewery, one of Milwaukee's microbrew houses.
Seth and Kyle: way to represent your great state of Wisconsin, and your Milwaukee Brewers. May every travelling baseball fan have the pleasure to meet you two fantastic individuals. Thank you for your hospitality. Let me know when you're on your way to Toronto, and I will no doubt return the favour. Except, sadly, for the tailgating.
Putting the Brew in Brewers
The Megabus from Minneapolis dropped me off at 1 pm, on time as always, in beautiful downtown Milwaukee. After I dropped my bags to my hotel -- remember, always use Priceline.com, always bid your own price, and, most importantly, always lowball -- I felt antsy. I'd been in Milwaukee, The Beer Capital of the freakin' World, for too long without having a brew; about 45 minutes. But after six hours on a bus, early on a Monday morning, I felt I'd earned a cold one.
Seth, Kyle and I met for the first time ever in life in the lobby of the Hilton. The two of them in their Milwaukee jerseys, and I wearing my trusty Blue Jays cap, the talk quickly turned to my journey, and to the Brewers; to baseball, the ultimate ice-breaker. The three of us, strangers, yet friends, united by our passion for the game. And off we set. Now, Milwaukee's got its fair share of guys on the streets, asking you for a dollar, or a cigarette. One passerby wore a vintage Jays cap, and I felt oddly proud. Toronto was being represented, if only in the name of fashion, all the way out in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Defensive about my eternally struggling Blue Jays, I let my new friends know the old school Jays logo was a hit with the hipsters in New York City, too. And they understood; Milwaukee's ball and glove logo is a popular one in baseball circles. Sometimes, when you're a Brewers and Blue Jays fan, this is what you hang your -- pardon the pun -- hat on.
The Milwaukee experience began at Major Goolsby's, a popular sports bar, an institution as I like to call it, a block south of the Bradley Center, home of the Milwaukee Bucks, downtown. The boys recommended a Spotted Cow, Wisconsin's famous farmhouse ale (with a little hint of corn), and it didn't disappoint. As the New Glarus Brewing Company declares: "You know you're in Wisconsin when you see the Spotted Cow." I'd never seen one before. So I guess that they're right.
From Goolsby's, it was off to our 3 pm brewery tour. Sure, when you're in Milwaukee, you could visit the Miller Brewery. But what's the point? You know they sell millions upon millions of barrels of beer and, when you do enjoy one of their products, say a Miller Lite, you only do so in a colloquial sense. Dare to be different.
So we went to Lakefront Brewery, where they don't show you a boring 15-minute video detailing their history, and where they let you sample their beer before, during, and after the tour. Your $7 admission gets you four pours of beer (I enjoyed the Wheat Monkey), and a souvenir pint glass, which in all likelihood will shatter in my bag before I get back to Toronto. "Kurtsy," your tour guide, is worth the price of admission alone; he's one entertaining cat. He loves beer. He drinks beer. And he works in beer. If beer were a professional sport, Kurtsy's made it to "the show."
A Religious Experience
Miller Park. Now, I know what you're thinking: being the Brewers isn't enough? Even their ballpark has to be sponsored by a beer company? What can I tell you. It's Milwaukee; it's how they roll. And it works. Wouldn't you agree?
Personally, I'm not a big fan of ballparks that aren't downtown. Everything about a stadium is better when it's in the heart of the city. Especially when it comes to access. I mean, I'd love to tell you how to get there, whether there are public transit options, or whether you're at the mercy of a cab, but I was riding with The Brew Crew. I can't be mad at the Brewers, though, for building Miller Park west of the city, and surrounded by parking lots. They were respecting religion. And tradition. And in these turbulent times, both of those must be respected. Because, according to Seth, tailgating is a "religion at Wisconsin sporting events."
I'm hardly a religious man. Spiritually speaking, I believe in Vernon Wells, Alex Anthopoulos, and Brian Burke. I'm a card carrying member of the Church of the Toronto Blue Jays, and the Church of Maple Leafs Sports & Entertainment. The latter being akin to the freakin' Vatican. These days, "Sports" is a stretch. And, actually, so is "Entertainment." But let's not digress; the Brewers and tailgating. I don't know about you, but that's something I can believe in. And it makes sense, doesn't it? Let your fans get absolutely wasted before each and every home game, and they'll be too drunk to care how awful their team is. The Blue Jays, and especially the Maple Leafs, really ought to look into somehow making this phenomenon acceptable with the powers that be in Toronto. I personally think tailgating is the reason why the Buffalo Bills have any fans left at all. Why else would anyone support that team? And I say that as a Bills fan who doesn't enjoy their Toronto experience. It isn't the same. We can't tailgate, and it's awfully painful to watch the Bills in person sober.
For home games, service begins in Milwaukee well before game time. When we showed up to the parking lot shortly after 5:00 pm, rows of cars were already lined up, the delicious smell of bratwurst filled the air, beer was flowing, and Cornhole bags (it isn't Bean Bag Toss, as I've foolishly been referring to it) were being tossed. With the interstate and Miller Park looming in the background, it made for quite the sight.
It's about more than baseball in Milwaukee. It's amazing how tailgating is, in some ways, just as important as the game itself. If not more. Some people tailgate well into the game's first three innings. Some won't enter the park until the 6th. In some cases, I heard, Brewers fans don't bother buying tickets; they've got a radio, a grill, and some beers. And they'll be there in the parking lot, right where you left them, after the game.
It was a chilly Monday evening. But if I learned anything in Milwaukee, it's that a Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy or two, some chips, a couple of brats, and a group of accommodating new friends can make the weather the least of your concerns. Good times.
The Friendly Confines of Dome
Good call, Milwaukee, on the lid. I love outdoor baseball, new Target Field in Minneapolis is fantastic, but there's nothing wrong with a well-built, and not soulless looking, retractable roof stadium. After a couple of hours outside, the warmth was welcome. And I've heard nothing but good things about a summer's day at Miller Park, the lid able to slide to the side in a matter of minutes.
And you know what else helps? Windows. Above the upper deck, on the third base side. A bloody brilliant idea, I must say. There's nothing wrong with a little natural light, even if just for an inning or three of a 7:10 pm start. And bricks, on the outside. Sure, it's a domed ballpark, but that doesn't mean it has to look like a massive slab of concrete. Now, I don't mean to dump all over the SkyDome. She's home, and she's a beauty. And, most importantly, she was before her time. But, believe me, I'm taking notes for when Toronto sets out to build its new ballpark. Bricks. We definitely need bricks.
A seat in the right field bleachers for $15 offers you a great view of the ballpark, including the infamous yellow slide in left-centre field. Unfortunately, the Brewers weren't able to put it to use. If kids are allowed to run the bases after certain games, the most inebriated Brewers fans should be allowed to have a go on the slide. That'd be one messy promotion.
Beer is cheap at Miller Park. As it should be. A small draft costs you $5.50, and a large comes in at $7.75. A domestic bottle will run you $5.25, and a premium bottle $6. While Miller products are, of course, all the rage, you can find yourself a microbrew. Seth and I went with Madison, Wisconsin's Capital Varities Point Seasonal. At that point, every beer tasted the same, and every beer tasted delicious.
Walk around; the spacious concourses have plenty to offer. She's your relatively new ballpark, with all the fixins. Just make sure you don't miss the Sausage Race. I'll be honest, I only took a quick stroll. I felt like it wasn't so much about Miller Park that night, but more about the experience with my Milwaukee mates. I think I watched more of the Brewers game than any game so far on #TBRTOAL. And that was just fine with me.
The Brewers took it on the chin that night, an 8-2 spanking at the hands of the Atlanta Braves, punctuated by a Martin Prado grand slam in the 8th inning. No matter, though. Like I said, at the end of the night, the score has little to no bearing on the religious experience undertaken. If only we could be so blessed in Toronto ...