I am Wally Joyner’s Brother: Pre-Confession of Post-Spring Training Experience

I feel a little disenfranchised. And no, this is not a sob story.

I’m heading out to Arizona in a matter of weeks, to engage Spring Training and rounds and rounds of beer. I’ll be attempting this feat with good friends. Something I’m thankful for — this is my first time participating in the classic.

There are no bad seats at spring training, especially if you’re trying to get your tan on. By Owen Main

But as you can imagine, the majority of the nuts going are Dodgers fans. It’s something I don’t have a problem with. I just wish I didn’t feel so Khloe Kardashian about it. Let me explain.

I am a long standing Halos fan. I grew up glorifying at best, above average players, like they were perennial All-Stars. Gary DiSarcina, Dick Schofield, Dante Bichette, Chili Davis, and Devon White, were a few. Just say the name Wally Joyner and I shiver. That name alone invokes the thickest bond between brothers. That went a little too far…

But no, seriously, I’m heading to Arizona to watch a bunch of Dodgers games against crap opponents like the San Diego Padres. I’d rather watch lizard porn. Can you imagine the Padres putting up anything more than a run against the Dodgers pitching staff?

Yet despite this hard reality, I am looking forward to the experience more than I am the actual games themselves. It’s about brotherhood. And it’s about drinking. It’s not about the Halos of Orange County, hence the Khloe Kardashian comparison.

In case you’ve forgotten, this nation has a deep history in the art of intoxication. From Napa Valley to the Whisky Trail, America knows how to party.

I’m unsure whether I’ll remember much of the experience. So before I go just know this my darling reader: I am the beer pong champion. I am the Kim Kardashian of beer pong. And I am Wally Joyner’s brother.