Favorite Club at US Open Might Be Canadian Club

Some people will tell you that they’re just fine consuming their office workers right from the cubicle, where they’ve been sitting still for years and letting their muscle tone waste away while dumping any ol’ crap from the vending machine in their feeding drawers.  However, the conscientious person with a taste for fine corporate drone will always opt for the free-range office worker that gets out into open spaces for hours at a time.

Fans at the U.S. Open like their booze

Also, they’re much better if you opt to let them marinade in a combination of light beer and rainstorms, freeing them to bray at the passersby.  That’s what happened at the U.S. Open this weekend and the results were Long Island charmers fresh from their jobs in the import/export business taunting Tiger Woods and friends ruthlessly and relentlessly at Bethpage Black.  And that’s nothing compared to what happened at Churchill Downs Friday night.

(By the way, if you ask one of these gentleman if they’ve hit at Bethpage Black, they’ll elbow one of their buddies and shout, “Yeah, I hit Beth in the back, baby!”)

Some people grew disgusted at the U.S. Open with actions like turning Fred Funk’s name into an obscenity (What could they have said? “Dead Funk” isn’t an obscenity, is it?) and hearty rounds of “you suck!” while slapping back Budweiser, but what did you expect?  Those other beers are more expensive.

Tiger Woods and Stevie Williams took the taunting well externally, but you can bet Steve noted each of their faces quietly, scheming later to hear the lamentations of their woman as he crushes their men.  It’s his mental relaxation exercise.

And to be fair to Long Island, it’s not the only free range space for the overstressed cubicle jockey.  Churchill Downs tried out Friday night at the racetracks with $2 beers and night racing.  Guess which they ran out of first when 30,000 people showed up at the track to nominally pretend to see horsies run?

For next Friday’s attempt, Churchill Downs is doubling the beer trucks, tripling the staff, and dropping the price of beer to $1.   The horses might as well pack it in by the third race because Jerry from Shipping and Receiving will be out on the track, slapping his posterior and pretending to whip his ghost horse down the track.

Of course, he’s more of a mudder than a thoroughbred and he can’t possibly run a mile and a quarter anymore, so he’ll be face down in the dust by the second turn.  At that point, he’ll be carried out by security and driven back to Long Island to finish the fourth round of the U.S. Open, which will be lucky to wrap up by Labor Day at this rate. Liver of a champion, Jerry!