[Vision2020] Ice Cold Beer Comes Out Here?

[Tom Hansen]

>From the "Life of Reilly" column, by Rick Reilly, of the June 30, 2006
edition of Sports Illustrated -

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Ice Cold Beer Comes Out Here?
By Rick Reilly

I have a very personal question to ask. Do you mind drinking beverages
dispensed from your fly? 

No? Then do I have a product for you! 

It's called The Beerbelly ($49.95). It's a beer-storage device worn under
your shirt that holds 80 ounces, thus allowing you to approximate life as
Larry the Cable Guy. Just hang The Beerbelly around your neck, test the
miniature spigot at the bottom and off you go! 

Think of all the other uses. Going to SkyBar, where beers are, like, $117?
Strap on a Beerbelly! Long flight in coach? Nonstop beer! Porky's and
Porky's II double feature? Don't miss a minute! 

The makers recommend "sneaking the dispensing spout out your fly."
Brilliant! Plus, who'll ask you to share? 

I decided to try The Beerbelly last week, at Dodger Stadium. But two days
before Operation Contrabeer, a very odd New York friend of mine said, "You
ought to take a Stadium Pal with you." 

"Get your own beer," I sneered. 

"No, you Spam brain," he said. "A Stadium Pal lets you watch the entire game
without having to get up to pee." 

Sadly, he wasn't joking. The Stadium Pal ($29.95) was invented by a
Cincinnati Bengals fan who hated missing part of the game for any reason.
And my question was: What is a Bengals fan afraid that he'll miss? A punt? 

The Stadium Pal is a (cough, cough) collection device that has a tube
running down to a bag that's attached to your calf, with a little drainage
valve at the bottom for ... later. In other words, another beer-storage
device. On the Pal website, a woman complained that her husband liked it so
much he used it while watching games on TV. "Men are lazy," she wrote. (You
think?) 

I had to have it. I know a bar with a Drink Free Till You Pee night. 

I filled The Beerbelly with a six-pack ($7.95), inserted the cold pack
(included), brought three friends along (I promised to pay for their
tickets), swallowed hard and walked up to the Dodger Stadium gate. I looked
lumpy and misshapen, like a guy trying to smuggle jeep parts. Or like John
Daly. Trying to act nonchalant, I approached the security checkpoint. 

Him (pointing to my hideous stomach): What's all this? 

Me: What? 

Him(more pointing): This. 

Me (hurt): Dude, I just had surgery. 

He looked me in the eyes. My heart stopped. Finally, he let me pass.
Trembling, I walked to freedom. I felt like I was in The Sound of Music. A
von Tap. 

Up in section 23 I sat next to a guy drinking a plastic bottle of Bud. I
asked him how much he paid. "Eight-fifty," he said, morosely. 

Sucker. 

I unzipped my fly, stuck a cup between my legs and poured myself a cold one.
(Has that sentence ever been written before?) Then some for my friends.
Admittedly, we had to get past the fact that we were drinking straight from
a crotch, but you talk about savings! Inside the stadium I'd have paid $50
for six beers. With The Beerbelly -- $8. I saved $42! The Beerbelly nearly
paid for itself the first time! 

"Where's all this beer coming from?" the morose guy finally asked. 

"Want to see?" I said, reaching for my zipper. (The woman he was with turned
away in horror.) "Give me your empty." 

As I filled it up, his eyes went like saucers. I offered him back his
bottle. He looked at it like it was a Lance Armstrong sample. But when he
felt the bottle was cold, he took a sip and grinned. 

In a seat behind me, some guy said, "Can you pull a hot dog out of there?"
Suddenly, I was the most popular guy in my row! 

Until ... I showed them all the Stadium Pal. 

They really didn't want to see the little drainage valve. In the eighth, Mr.
Bud got up and cracked, "Excuse me. Not all of us have a Stadium Pal" -- and
never returned. 

Mr. Wiseacre behind me said, "Maybe he wasn't sure which spout you used to
fill his bottle." 

See, when people know you're Pal'd up, they constantly think you're peeing.
The irony was, I couldn't go. You don't undo 46 years of training in two
hours. I had to close my eyes and think of the Trevi Fountain. When my
friends saw the relief on my face, they moved one seat farther away. 

Coming up next from The Beerbelly's inventor -- The Wine Rack! It's worn by
women as a bra. 

You don't even want to know where the spouts are.

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Seeya round town, Moscow.

Tom Hansen
Moscow, Idaho

"Uh, how about a 1-strike law. Death doesn't seem too extreme for a Level-3
sex offender."

- Dale "Comb-Over" Courtney (August 3, 2005)