1st Annual PTU Hater J Birthday Extravaganza

We talk a lot about athletes being heroes, but next Monday America will celebrate actual heroism, and commemorate the courage that so many of us lack. And it's also Memorial day. Of course, I'm speaking of Hater J's birthday. Since that other holiday is going on at the same time, the PTU forefathers honored this occasion a week early the only way we know how: with copious amounts of beer, football and omelets.

It all started at PTU favorite Hop Devil Grill, which most of the country remembers as the site of one of the most memorable moments in sports: M@d $cientist's record breaking taco eating. Having already shattered the former record for tacos devoured, M@d decided to tackle the second most revered mark in sporting history: Mimosas chugged. The exact number is unknown (the homeless guy we paid to keep count passed out from excitement around the 20s somewhere) but let's just say there may be a shortage of orange juice in the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

After breaking another long thought unbreakable record and polishing off our steak and eggs and Captain Lawrence Liquid Golds we all travelled to Hater J's birth place, the mythical town of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. As most anyone familiar with the tri-state area can tell you, Willy B. has gone from a "keeping it real" Brooklyn neighborhood, split (as so many NY neighborhoods are) between orthodox Jews and mostly Hispanic and Black residents to a hipster artist and yuppie playground. Hater J and many o.g. W'burg people can tell you the love/hate relationship this has created for them; on the one hand the neighborhood has lost most of it's character and many of those who were born there were priced out by condos and other yuppie signifiers, but on the other, crime is down and you can pretty much do anything you please in the street without fear of police harassment. For that reason, Williamsburg makes for a great Sunday afternoon to drink styrofoam cups of beer purchased at Turkey's Nest and walk the streets like you're in some lawless hipster Mad Max world. It's great.

So, styrofoam cups of Coors light in hand, the next phase of the Hater J birthday extravaganza was put into effect: the 1st annual PTU football game. A hush fell over the crowd of assorted amateur rock stars and photographers, Jewish children celebrating their birthdays, and old people sitting on benches as the two teams lined up for what would be an epic match-up of blogging goof balls. Bottle led the attack, firing darts to myself and the chugging king with Favre like precision. The teams battled back and forth before a bone-crunching, teeth shaking birthday boy block (I'm not sure if he or $cientist took more of the punishment) freed up Snoot for a ridiculous Devin Hester like kick off return touchdown. The Jews looked away from their balloon animals, the hipsters put down their American Spirits, and it seemed like this would be the play of the day. That is until, the M@d Mimosa Chugger turned back the clock, diving face first for a one handed, ham string pulling grab that would make Dwight Clark cry like a little girl. Snoot, Mr. D and the rest of the opposing team slunk to the sidelines in disbelief and the First Annual PTU Hater J birthday extravaganza came to a fittingly dramatic close. Oh, and we also ate pretzels.

Until next year, happy birthday Hater J.