a run-of-the-mill road trip has turned aces.

friday night, gurs + uber-chick susan joined me in appleton for that fine wisconsin tradition - tailgated brats on the grill. sadly, travel delays/traffic/miscommunications (or so i hear) led to a later-than-planned arrival, which meant that gurs and susan did not arrive in time for pregame grilling. however, the dynamic duo made it up to the booth for about the third-through-seventh innings, at which point i kicked them out so that they could head on field for 'oversized boxing.' the shorts-clad gurs was no match for the skirt-clad susan, who scored two knockdowns in the most lopsided oversized boxing match i've ever seen.

but the real treat was the postgame susan-prepared buffet, complete with brats, yuengling beer, miller products, grilled vegetables, chopped onions, grapes, and the northwestern afghan. although our time was limited to about 45 minutes of gurs-rud-susan time, it was well worth it.

for my time, i received four bitchin' wedding pictures - all smiles, plus one with a rose in my mouth - as well as nick hornby's a long way down, his newest novel. susan went totally above and beyond the call of duty, and gurs wins.

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saturday was nearly as good. after the all-night bus ride [seriously - we departed appleton at 11:30 CDT, and arrived in dayton 9:15 CDT], i checked into my room, turned on the british open, and slept until 3:30.

bus at 5:30 to the ballpark. i was greeted shortly thereafter by nemo, who was my guest for the night. he did some pxp, we talked some wedding, i described the pretzel we were sharing as 'hard and crusty on the outside, soft on the inside, much like yours truly,' we talked more wedding, we ran down the list of great princeton athletes, and we generally had a good time. generally, we giggled a lot, and got a nice email from one of the player's grandfather as thanks.

saturday night featured a return trip to o'charley's, the scene of the crime in 2003. six tall beers combined consumed, about three more rud-glasses of water, and ten total chi-pole-tay wings. waiter couldn't pronounce it.

this morning was a bit rockier. cracker barrel was packed. bob evans was not. we had the five-minute wait at bob's. in that time, we saw the hitting coach and his wife and his baby boy. "andrew!" "hey keith." "have you met my wife, leslie?" "no. [shake] . good to meet you. this is nemo." "good to meet you. [shake]." ... idle chat ... keith's name is called.

what i only later realized is that nemo hadn't been identified. keith's never seen me 'work it.' because nemo was introduced as 'nemo,' and not 'nemo, my college roommate, nemo'...well...who goes to breakfast on sunday morning? married couples. dating couples. gay couples. time for this guy to work his magic, and time for this guy to make sure that keith is present when this guy is working his magic. otherwise, these things spread...

still, aces. tops weekend during a season ever, at least tops among those that featured me also broadcasting games.

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two more players were ejected from our game today. our guy for throwing at a batter. their guy for hitting one of ours in retaliation a few innings later. our third reliever hit the same guy that had been thrown at in the third inning. after the game, stunned that he wasn't tossed, reliever said to me: 'i thought mine was pretty obvious.' i thought it was pretty funny.

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does it say something good/bad/neutral about me that i'm absolutely riveted by russell simmons' def poetry jam on hbo? it's my favorite part of road trips that occurs at 1 a.m.