> DAAAAAMN ROBIN YOUNTS WIFE WAS LOOKIN FINE IN THE PARADE TODAY EXACTLY THE TYPE OF GILF IM INTO AT THE MOMENT

daaaamn. i said it out loud on the curb and a guy in a yelich jersey moved his kid to the other side of him. robin younts wife was lookin fine in the parade today and she is exactly the type of gilf im into at the moment. at the moment. thats the key phrase. my taste rotates like a brewers bullpen in september and right now the closer is a hall of famers wife waving from a float.

brewers win the world series. the whole city is crying into its brats. grown men hugging strangers on wisconsin ave. and what do i take home from the greatest day in milwaukee sports history. not a ring. not a ball. not a signed anything. a gilf crush on a woman whose husband has 3142 hits and a plaque in cooperstown. thats my trophy. the only one i walked away with. i put it on the mantel next to the busch light can i was holding when she went by.

heekee said it better than i can and i hate him for it. robin yount won a world series and somehow his wife still ended up as my parade special. "gilf at the moment is a bold nutritional label," heekee says, "for a woman who married a hall of famer and still has to share a float with a guy who just called her fine in a group chat." and hes right. she didnt sign up for this. she signed up for robin. she got robin AND a man in a brewers hat on the curb doing inventory.

because thats what i was doing. inventory. gilf inventory, like its opening day and im checking the roster. heekee says im out here scouting mrs yount like shes a free sample at costco. thats exactly the energy. you know the guy. lurking by the little paper cup of spinach dip, circling back for a third pass, pretending hes interested in the vacuum display. that was me on the parade route. third pass. vacuum display.

and heekees rules, which i am now posting as the official camp idiot parade code of conduct:
don't wave.
don't yell.
just stand there drooling while milwaukee celebrates and you celebrate her husbands retirement plan.

her husbands retirement plan. read that again. the man played twenty seasons, two mvps, shortstop AND center field, and his retirement plan is apparently me, in a foam finger, deciding his wife is a vibe. robin if youre reading this i mean it with respect. the kind of respect a raccoon has for a dumpster.

brewers hat energy is a real thing and i have it in excess. brewers hat energy is when the team does something great and you somehow make it about you. brewers hat energy is when the whole state is celebrating a championship and youre texting the group chat about a grandmother. brewers hat energy is pulling the bill down low so nobody sees your eyes following float number six.

and lets be honest about the "at the moment." last month it was somebody else. next month it'll be somebody else. my type is whoever is elevated three feet off the ground on a flatbed truck in front of me. if the parade had gone the other way i'd be writing this about bernie brewer. beggars cant be choosers and i am the beggar-est beggar on the route. holding a can. scarlet cord around my wrist like a hospital bracelet, which is what it should be.

so congratulations to the brewers. congratulations to robin. congratulations to mrs yount for looking fine and having no idea a grown man was standing on a curb treating her like the last sample of the good cheese. i did not wave. i did not yell. i drooled, quietly, like a gentleman, like a fool, like the only guy in milwaukee who left the world series parade with a crush instead of a ring.

daaaamn.