After several frozen cocktails at Under the Volcano on empty stomachs, converted Houstonians Jeremy C. Little (a publicist) and Colin “Dabbo” Dabbs (a junior high history teacher) finally decided to do it. Eight days, 10 Major League ballparks, the Budweiser brewery, and enough fried food to give Carlos Lee the gout. It’s the Great American Bro'd Trip and this is the account of day three.

Day 3: Springfield, Il – Milwaukee, Wi — 286 miles

Pilgrims in an unholy land

It’s Miller (Park) time, and we were decked out in Astros gear courtesy of our friends at Silver Eagle Distributors and Budweiser. On any other night we might have drawn the ire of the locals (for both our team and beer choices), but not on this night, because the Brewers were hosting their hated NL Central division rival Chicago Cubs, and the ensuing freak show was (almost) worth the steep price of admission.

The crowd was a bizarre combination of inebriated college kids, inebriated townies, and an inexplicably high percentage of attractive women (also inebriated). Think Vintage during any college holiday break, but somehow even less fun.

This doesn’t take into account the glut of equally inebriated Cubs fans that turned Miller Park into Wrigley North. “Roll out the barrel ...”

I’m still trying to figure out if there was anything at Miller Park that wasn’t sponsored or for sale. The concourses are narrow, dark, industrial, and crammed with food and merchandise kiosks. To make matters worse, everything is really, really expensive.

Somewhere Zombie Walt Disney is nodding in approval.

The cheapest seats at Miller Park are $20 excluding the $1 “Uecker Seats” positioned behind the beams that hold up the roof. It’s MLB Commissioner Bud Selig’s park, so neither of us were even remotely surprised that every square inch was covered in advertising. “Now batting, the cleanup hitter brought to you by British Petroleum.” What? Too soon?

Taking into account tickets, concession prices, and transportation, Milwaukee will likely wind up being the most expensive portion of this trip, and that includes the capper at Yankee Stadium — which is perplexing given the blue-collar composition of the fan base. And thanks to that brilliant economic stimulus bill Congress so thoughtfully drafted last year, every inch of highway in southern Milwaukee is under construction simultaneously.

The Milwaukee Taxi Drivers’ Union must have pictures of Nancy Pelosi at a Tijuana donkey show. Madame Speaker, you owe me $40.

Best moment of the night: Trashed Brewers fan who got frisked by security for smuggling a can of Busch Light (gasp!) into the game. He later burned himself on a grill.

The slow clap that actually worked
Unlike the interminable Rays-Rangers tilt from Day 1, the Cubs and Brewers made it to the eighth inning in just over two hours. Pitchers duels aren’t fun when you’re not a fan of either team and your stated purpose at the game is knock back a few beers and make friends with locals. The Cubbies took a lead into the ninth until Gene Hackman saved the Brewers.

Trailing 2-1 with two outs in the ninth, the Brewer’s A/V jockey played the Hoosiers clip where Hackman psyches up his team with a locker room pep talk that included the only-ever instance of an effective slow clap. Brewers third baseman Casey McGehee responded by lacing a two-run single up the middle off Cubs closer Carlos Marmol. Pandemonium and more fist fights ensued.

After the game, an understandably tired looking security guard assured us that public drunkenness at Miller Park is only a problem when the Cubs are in town. Yup. I totally believe that.

Douche/not a douche — everyone's favorite play-at-home game

Round 2 of “Douche / Not A Douche” presents an unfortunate and nasty example of how low people can sink while under the influence. This feature was meant to be funny, so I’ll keep this entry short. I’m only including it because certain types of behavior simply can’t be ignored or tolerated.

The evidence: Openly and persistently mocking a child with Down syndrome with a tired There’s Something About Mary reference while his horrified soon-to-be-former friends try to physically restrain him.

In his defense: Enough alcohol to bring down a bull elephant, either that or he has the tolerance of a Brownie Scout. Ultimately though, alcohol is an explanation, never an excuse.

Verdict: über-douche. Somebody in Chicago is going have to be grilling live puppies in the U.S. Cellular Field parking lot to trump this dude.