When do they tap the keg?
My first morning of my first nationals. Here I am at the fields, in the crow's nest, thinking, "Wow. This is amazing." For people who have been here many times, who think this is just another tournament, who expect to come here every year, I say, "Go home. Let the rest of us, for whom this is a wonder, an experience, a moment, have a chance at this experience." It's more than just a tournament. It's the opportunity to see the sport we love at its finest.
My first thought here is that it's cold. No one told me it was going to be cold. Sure, at the end of the day I'll probably be thrilled with that gentle breeze coming through the crow's nest, the 10° cooler temperature, the shade. But right now, at 9:10 am (it's only 6:10 am at home! Crazy talk!), it's freaking cold. As I'm wont to say, "Cold, tired, hungry. Pick two."
I went to get a bagel for breakfast. Sans cream cheese, not my favorite breakfast, but I'll manage. On my way over, a woman noticed my "Official UPA staff" shirt, and asked, "Hey, do you know when they'll start the beer?"
Blink.
Blink, blink.
It's 8:45.
A.M.
I guess some people, well, have different priorities.
So far today, I've seen and said hello to Brokaw, Drea, Patrick Hard, Becky, Asako, Jane, Kate. I've met a bunch more people that I'm sure I'll never remember their names. And there are many others are here that I recognize: Billy Rodriquez, Mooney, Scottie. This is cool.