As my friends and I have gotten older, our regular guy events have gotten more subdued.
The most noticeable change in our habits these days is the inclusion of wine when we get together. As a group, we’ve done many an “Open that bottle” night, where everyone brings a super special bottle and we pop them all with delight. We’ve done our blind tastings, where I recall my ringer bottle of ’95 Gevrey Chambertin getting way outloved by a $12.99 bottle of Coppola’s Diamond Label Pinot Noir.
Well played, Francis. Well played.
Now though, wine is associated with our most “manly” get togethers, the monthly poker game, where smoking is strictly prohibited and seven or eight Riedel wine glasses share space with our chips, bad language and sub standard card playing skills.
But no where have we left those American Sunday values behind us more than drinking vino when we watch football. I’m not saying we’re imbibing it for the 10am PST Eagles game, but any time we’re watching the second game, a bottle will surely be opened.
I can only imagine what it would look like if the fans at the game were looking through a screen at us, as we sit in my friend’s plush home theatre, stadium seating giving everyone a great view of his 105″ Hi-Def screen. My guess is we’d get beer thrown on us, complete with slurs about our manhood, how we probably moisturize our faces before we go to sleep (at least I do), how we drive Prius’ (which many of us do) and how we’re probably voting Obama (which I suspect we all are).
In the immortal words of coach, Reg Dunlop of the Charlestown Chiefs, “Go ahead, call us Names.” Just don’t expect us to share our Lewis Cellars Cabernet with you.
Ain’t gonna happen…
