If You Save A Beer 30+ Years For When The Cubs Win The World Series Then You Better Damn Well Drink It When They Do
Here's a little tip for this old man the next time he thinks about saving a beer for over three decades only to crack it open when literally the rarest of championships is won...lie to me. Honestly, what the fuck do I care that some guy decided to pack away a random domestic can while he was trying to fix the antenna on his television and listening to his Cubbies on the transistor radio? My parents were probably already attempting to create me (holds down vomit taste) in 1984. That's not even impressive. Last time I checked the Chicago Cubs didn't win dick in 1984, so the age of that beer holds very little significance. What does he want? A round of applause for holding onto a brewski for less than 1/3 of a championship drought? All his son had to do was manufacture the truth and say that beer was packaged in 1908, survived prohibition, and got passed down through generations and not only would I believe him, but I would be far more fascinated by the feat.
Instead I'm just looking at some guy pouring an old, skunked beer into a coffee mug? The whole family just sitting around talking about how bad it smells like a Coors that's been out in the sun for 32 minutes doesn't smell just as bad as one that's been sitting in a cabinet for 32 years? That was the most anti-climactic act of symbolism these eyes have ever seen. That beer didn't survive this damn long just to go un-drank. If no one was going to hold their nose and slug it back then they should have never opened it in the first place. It's sad day (usually morning after) when a beer gets poured down the drain - never mind a beer that's waited all this time to have it's purpose fulfilled on the happiest of nights. Everyone knows there's only one right way to waste booze during that special of an occasion...