I’m at the Liquor and Rubber Balls Sports Bar and Nail Emporium tonight watching the Phillies play the Mets in between tall draughts of Anchor Steam Beer, which is unbelievably smooth and flavorful even after the fifth one. Sixth one. Tenth one. Holy shit, where am I? Who’s winning?
In the top of the ninth inning, Freddy Galvis draws a walk, trots down to first base, and sort of crouches while the first base coach leans over to mutter some advice. There’s a moment or two when the camera focuses on his 22 year old pinstriped ass. Observing this, no fewer than three women at the bar grab at their own crotches while lustfully screeching the sort of remarks that definitely would have them expelled from Catholic school.
But back to Freddy Galvis’s ass. I want to know (refer above to quantity of beer consumed) why these obviously gay women are even interested in, let alone turned on by, the buttocks of a male baseball player. So I ask.
“A great ass is a great ass,” Cosmo tells me. The only object that spends more time inside LRBs than Cosmo is the cash register, but even that gets cleaned out now and then. Even a casual observer appreciates that she’s scary nuts. “Who gives a shit what it’s attached to?”
“A man’s ass is like an elephant,” says Tat. Tat rides and repairs motorcycles in between visits with her parole officer. “I wouldn’t want to own one, but I like looking at them.”
“We’re talking about asses,” says Jersey, a towering shaved-skull gym rat with ropy biceps and a sailor’s vocabulary. “What the hell does buttless old fuck like you know about it? Wasn’t for your wallet, your pants would fall off!”
At this point — and by now the Phillies have remarkably scored an additional 5 runs in the top of the 9th — Lu Senz steps between me and the chorus and orders another round (muttering to me that it’s going on my tab).
When I explain to Lu my next question was going to be Which athletes have the best asses — baseball, basketball, football, swimmers, tennis players? — she informs me my next question should be, Who’s driving me home?
So I leave it to you, readers. Which sport produces the best asses? No, not politics. Not those asses.