Hotter Than A Pepper Sprout

There is no shade in Jackson, Tennessee. Nor is it ever cloudy. Ever. At least that’s what I thought last weekend.

We had another damn travel team tournament last weekend. Hell, we have one this weekend, but at least its in the Donelson Sportsplex/Mosquito Research Station. Sitting out in the heat with the bugs is one thing. Driving two hours and spending two nights in a motel for the same privilege is quite another.

Let me say this about Jackson. You have a first-class ballpark. Other than your policy about not being able to bring in outside beverages, I could find nothing to complain about. Kudos to you for not making a big deal out of me bringing in my own beverages, by the way. It was brain-frying hot out there. Paying the criminally high prices for concession stand sodas and water was not an option.

It was so hot, we left the baby and the dog at home to fend for themselves rather than sit and watch a baseball game on the surface of the sun. No telling what adventures they had.

I found a great pizza place in Jackson. Picasso’s Bistro has a decent beer and wine selection with gourmet pizzas. Even the boys, with their philistine tastes enjoyed it. As the Howard Johnson’s we stayed in didn’t have a bar, it was the only place I could get any booze.

This HoJo’s had a pool that was so small, it barely fit the legal definition of a pool. With all the children staying there and swimming, it was more like a piss puddle with a deep end.

After gaining the number one seed in the tourney, we thankfully got beat in the first game on Sunday. This meant getting home early for the Sopranos Anti-Climax.

The only trophy gained was the photos of a kid who looked

incredibly like Eric Cartman.