Biscuit Diaries: Day 4

Birmingham BBQ & A Bunch of Li’l Biscuits

Ah, Birmingham. While Big Mak remains stubbornly partial to the antique charms of Montgomery, I found heaven in Birmingham. For the first time, not even a slice of this utopia was found at the ballpark. The Birmingham Barons play in a disheveled late-1980s monstrosity set in the middle of a complex of an office park – the last thing that makes the baseball mind wax nostalgic. Worse, today was the worst day to attend a Barons game. This was neither $5 large Little Caesar’s Monday Night, nor crappy 25-Cent Bar-S hot dog Tuesday. It definitely wasn’t $1 beer Thirsty Thursday (since Big Mak is still remarkably sober). No, this was School Spirit Day, where about ten schools took advantage of $3 tickets to flood the place with a horde of hyperactive nose pickers. To make matters worse, random giveaways thrown into the crowd ensured that these li’l biscuits would crash into us every few innings, shouting excitedly all the way – with an announced attendance of 6,000-plus, picture those six Li’l Biscuits pictured above out of uniform times a thousand. Our only salvation from the kids and the Barons’ limp noodle offense was the pitching of Ray Liotta (not the movie star), and delicious cinnamon pretzels. Mak and I agreed that when a pretzel is your best option at the ballpark, it might be time to tear the whole place down and start anew.

The outfield advertising is one area that even the Barons have right. At each stop, the entire outfield is plastered with ads, with only a small hitters’ backdrop in dead center offering some relief. Big Mak commented that this represents a real-life MySpace equivalent – a tiny little space that serves some purpose for the user (the MySpace user or the hitter, respectively) surrounded by endless obnoxious ads. Only Mak and I could find some use for these. At each minor league stop, we’ve each strategically picked one of the most obnoxious ads and had a standing bet that if a ball bounces up against this ad or flies over it, that person is entitled to an ice cream of their choice. Unfortunately, every time we make our picks, the hitters forget how to hit. Nevertheless, I have to agree with Mak that a particularly snarky real estate agent’s picture needed a good balling; thus, even though it would cost me precious ice cream dollars, I found myself rooting for him.

Despite the lack of offense in the game – a 2-0 Biscuit winner – and dearth of palatable food options, we had reason for optimism going forward. Fortunately, we had a reputable tip that the world’s best ribs were in town for the having, at a place appropriately dubbed “Dreamland” (pictures to follow as soon as I upload them). In the words of a good friend, OFF THE CHAIN! The ribs introduced themselves to us within two minutes of ordering, and they had me from “hello”. The fact that I also invited oversized helpings of baked beans and cole slaw to join the fun further precipitated their taking up happy residence in my stomach, where they remain solid citizens and pillars of the community eight hours later.

Driving through Birmingham on the way back, the endless rolling hills reminded me of my summer in Queretaro in 2004. Although some of the hills were ridiculously steep and a few wayward drivers almost made us glad we took out the insurance policy on the G6, I will nevertheless be sad to leave this place. Even the hotel no longer smells – the staff gave us some new aromatic biscuits for the A/C to take care of the air mold.

We’ll see if we manage to wake up at 4 AM to begin our long trek to Tampa. Big Mak may keep me entertained all night long with www.jumptheshark.com votes deciding at what point sitcoms took a terminal turn for the worse, or “jumped the shark”. I won’t mind, since this is my night sleeping on the Lazy-Boy.

After a nice long Tampa nap, I’ll have more on the last leg of our journey. Stay tuned!