Summer Season x 5 Games.

Alright, whatever, Rod's over apologies. It's time to fill you in on the season so far. So what if I'm unable to keep my drinking in check? So what if I have to write this post at the studio because as soon as I get home, I can't function through the gin fog? So what if I can't be trusted around heavy machinery? Who needs heavy machinery?

So here's the deal, I post a photo of the score, tell you a quick bit about the game, move on. I've got five to get through here, give me a break.

vs. Solid Gold.

So the thing I remember about this game is that Sweet Touch knew the guy on the team. They were rookies. They were better than we expected.

Also, it was the same day as Dr. Booze's farewell party. Which was epic. But back to the game, we won.

vs. The Mo I Bocce.

These guys were also rookies. They were also better than expected. They are incredibly friendly and delightful to play against. Also, we beat them. Always nice.

Oh, and there were an insane amount of kids in the bar. Having birthday parties. In the bar. Yep.

And it was a double header. This was game one. Game two...

vs. The Lassos.

I remember that girl from Gossip Girl, Blake Lively, was in the bar during this match. People flocked to her and her small dog. How did this happen? Didn't they realize that Rod Stewart himself was in the house? How dare they?

We must have been tired because after three hours of bocce that fine Saturday, we lost to The Lassos. Another team of rookies. It was shameful.

vs. Count Boccula.

Yep. We lost to a team named Count Boccula. And they were, guess what... rookies!!!

To be fair, Sweet Touch was crushingly hungover (who does he think he is, Rod?) and Dirty Weekend's little brother Jason, a rookie of our own for once, filled in as our fourth. It didn't help. Rod folded like balsa wood under the pressure and walked home, head hung in shame. Count Boccula...

vs. The Mo I Bocce. Again.

Yes, it's been that long. I missed that many posts. We played The Mo I Bocce once again this past Saturday. Again, we beat them. Here's an artistic version of the above photo:

Sexy, right? It reminds me of myself in the 70's. I miss those days.

Also, for this game, good ole' Jim Flood joined us. And he took some snazzy photos, like the one up top. And the one below this here sentence:

The End of Last Season, to the Best of My Knowledge

Rod did not win last season. Instead, Rod fell into an abyss of depression.

He blames the loss. To be honest (which Rod isn't a fan of), it merely started there. But then it spiraled downward, endlessly.

Other elements came into play. Like his inability to hold down a stable relationship. With a woman.

Or his children.

Also, he reflected on his choice of attire for the past 40 years and cringed. That's when the drinking started.

The drinking lasted until this evening. That's when he realized what a son of a bitch he is for not updating the blog. Maybe his son was right about him. Maybe he is nothing more than an egomaniac who loves to dangle carrots over the heads of his fans, i.e. the readers of this here blog. For this he apologizes.

Also, he would like to inform you that the apology is insincere. What do you want from him? He's a rock star. We do what we want.

For example:


On this note, Rod would like to share with you the comments from an email chain with his teammates regarding last season. Apparently, he was not the only one that drank himself into a coma.

"I know we lost to Old Dirty Barristers, not sure who we beat that day though."

"The week prior to that, we beat Cobra Kai, right?"

"Yeah, I don't remember who we played either. Did we play Cobra Kai? I don't even remember that."

So there you have it. In the first round of the playoffs, we're sort of sure that we beat Cobra Kai.

After that stunning victory, unparalleled in skill and class by any team ever to play the sweet game of bocce, we advanced to the following week, a winner take all scenario that would last hours and carry into the wee hours of late afternoon.

The first game, it was Rod versus Kiss My Pallino. But don't worry, we also took them down in a battle to end all battles. It was as if the Greek Gods were clashing, like "titans" if you will. Luckily, Rod played the role of Harry Hamlin and tricked the wily crew who, admittedly, were clearly more interested in the Preakness races anyway. Whatever, we advanced to the Final Four.

The Rod crew chose to indulge in a post-victory meal at Five Guys, strutting through Brooklyn Heights with bad attitudes and a swagger rivaling P. Diddy's. It wouldn't last long. Old Dirty Barristers, as you noticed from the emailed quotes above, decimated us in the Final Four.

The Final match was between ODB and Boccelism. Boccelism won. Again. Woo-hoo...

IYWMB v. Shut It, We’re Here to Drink, Saturday, 18th April, 1:00 p.m.

By Dave aka Gladrags
Photos by Jim aka "Balltrap"

And drink they did.

We arrived a few minutes before match time. The bar was already permeated by the aroma of fried food and teeming with fans who had come not in the expectation that they might one day tell their grandchildren that they witnessed first-hand the completion of IYWMB’s almost undefeated season, but rather to watch the F.A. Cup semifinal between Arsenal and Chelsea on satellite TV. After a few minutes of warm-ups, we noticed that our opponents were three, and Courson approached them to inquire as to the status of their fourth. He was sadly not told to shut it, but rather that their final member was on his way. He arrived a few minutes later, and after Shut It scored a couple of sixes of Schlitz, IYWMB’s inexorable march toward almost-undefeatedness was underway.


The first game was over in a flash. A wondertoss by Sujan made it 1-0, good throws by Courson and me made it 2-0 and 3-0 respectively, and another great Sujan roll (made possible by some opportunistic play by Auntie Bethy) left us with a 4-0 lead. Under the weight of this onslaught, Shut It folded like a Japanese schoolgirl making an origami representation of despair. Visibly rattled, they gave us an easy opportunity for four, but Courson and I only needed three. 7-0.

The second game started much as the first had. Sujan and Jim pressed them early with the long game, and Shut It proved helpless against the power of the rollback. Seemingly, also helpless against the power of the Schlitz’s. Jim secured one point and yet another brilliant effort by Sujan turned one into two. 2-0.


Courson kept the pedal pressed firmly to the metal and went long again. Curiously, I had decided to advise one of the Shut It guys in the interval about the need when rolling from the south end to get past the dark patch (or as I call it, “Coogan’s Bluff”) and down the hill. I was soundly punished for that departure from my normally cutthroated nature, as that same Shut It roller then scooted right past our defensive balls and made it 2-2. His Mets shirted partner could have gone for three, but failed to summon the courage. Either that, or he was simply so amazed that they had scored any points that he lost his grip on the ball and just dropped it. The Schlitz now coursing through their veins, they quickly snatched another point to make it 3-2, before Courson seemed to right the USS IYWMB and level things at 3.


Unfortunately, this proved to be only a temporary course correction, and some lucky rollbacks and a lot of brute force put them up 6-3. Just then, the bar erupted, as Drogba rounded the Arsenal keeper and slotted home to send Chelsea to Wembley. Shut It must have been disappointed, because they couldn’t have seemed any more eager to throw the game away. After throwing the white ball long, they threw their first ball short, and it settled in about eight feet from the target. It was to end up their closest ball. The second throw hit the back wall and a shout of “Don’t let them get four points” from an increasingly pained teammate began to look more like a prophecy than a warning. Two more balls against the back wall, and Sujan and Jim crossed the “t” and dotted the “i.” It spelled victory.

In Honor of Double Trouble: A Double Update!

And so let it be written: Rod is on fire.

While he must apologize for lack of updates, it was for good reason.

You see, he spent the better part of last week and a half on an incredible bender, doing 8-balls, visiting strip clubs and participating in generally despicable behavior, all in the name of celebration.


Please allow Rod to explain:

First, there was the game against the Balls of Justice. I assume they were made up of lawyers with a pretty good sense of humor. But a good sense of humor does not a bocce game win, as was clearly demonstrated as Rod brought the gavel down in style.

Here are some examples of Rod's prowess on the court:

Dr. Booze declared that the victory was thanks to her burgeoning relationship with WB (or as the uninitiated refer to her, "Water Bottle").

To find out more, you can spy on this beautiful duo by going here: http://ilovemynewwaterbottle.blogspot.com/

However, this clearly wasn't a WB-related victory, because the next week, we took down Cobra Kai.

Note the fancy cursive!

This game had been in the back of our minds all season, especially because the match (originally slated to go down over a month ago) was postponed. Many of us worried that these two teams would never meet, but alas, the scheduling Gods made this happen and things got weird.

First, Rod goes down 4-0.

But apparently, Rod enjoys being an underdog because that shit did not last!

Bam!

Moments later, comeback city. Ball after ball flowed freely from Rod's spindly fingers, racking up points like hit singles of other people's records.

Before we knew it, the game was over, and as our heads stopped spinning, we all came to the startling realization that a) Dr. Booze is a liar and b) Mitch was on fire. Playing a match that would make any old Italian man blush, Mitch brought the thunder and made it rain pain. Witness a graceful toss from the golden arm:

Team Rod: The New Face of First Place!

As you may have gleaned from the title, we are now in possession of first place in the Saturday ranks. I give the arrival of Double Trouble credit for this feat. Allow me to explain.


As you can see from the scoreboard, the first round was abysmal. It may have had something to do with the boisterous cursing of Tottenham fans, who are undying loyalists and would have been cute in a non-competitive setting, but were mostly distracting. The second round began the same way. We were down 4 to 1, but that's when Otis came swooning over the speakers.

Sure, Sam was a no show (from now on, all playlists with Otis must now include a Sam song as well), but with the sudden support from the new arrivals, Dan's spirit lifted and before we knew it, the rest of the team came with.

Erik was dancing (to be fair, he danced the entire time, but before Otis, it was a sad dance of defeat and hangovers).

Henry perked up for the first time all day (though he would hold out on high fives until he left shortly after round 2). Also, please note his Chelsea jersey, which was pointed out by a few Tottenham hooligans, who were savagely mocked by Henry's total lack of awareness at their team's existence.


So we ground out game two, coming back and making Rod proud of us, a feat never achieved by his failure of a son Sean.


And let's not get started with Kimberly.


Suffice it to say, shortly after this photo was taken, we discovered that a) she's terrible at riding motorcycles and b) she chose not to wear underwear.

Back to the subject at hand, we wiped up round 3 and snatched victory from the Hibocces. Perhaps the best team we've played this season, but still, no match for a strong Rod (Mitch was still missing, which made us sad, but not sad enough to nix dancing). And the spiritual presence of Sujan and Double Trouble was felt by all.

Winning shot!


Welcome Sam and Otis!

Rod Loves 4 on 1 (But Usually Prefers to Be the 1)

Saturday saw Rod's record improve to 4-1. We had a difficult time putting together a full squad. But not nearly as difficult a time as our opponent. In fact, they only had one person show up. On our side, Mike gallantly stepped in to be our 4th member.

So despite what the rules state, we decided why the heck not? Let's do it 4 on 1, Rod Style!

We won. No problem. We wore down Excessive Force Chris and celebrated.

On another note, this match will be my last bocce match before the arrival of Double Trouble - planned for this Friday. Their bocce training will commence the next day but I doubt I'll be at the highly anticipated Cobra Kai match. Go Rod!

Hot Off The Presses!!!

This just in: IYWMB defeats Ruckamuck 2 to 1!

Round 1: 7-2
Round 2: 6-7
Round 3: 7-2

Ruckamuck, who, unlike our last opponent, actually showed up for the game, pulled out every trick in their book to defeat us and came up short, even with the last minute addition of this lady:


























As Dan noted, it must have been the great presence of Rod in Brooklyn that Friday that provided the extra "oomph" in our throws, the extra sexy in our bocce and the extra sleep deprivation in Dan's slouching tosses of victory.

After the amazing victory over those ruthless probable law students that comprise Ruckamuck, not to mention Sweet Touch assisting Cobra Kai in a near shut-out defeat of The Iron Fists (they DO exist), several of Rod's members charged off into the crisp Brooklyn afternoon and watched as Sweet Touch rode various inanimate objects home as a questionable form of celebration.

The results weren't pretty: