D.Rough wanted an adventure. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but when she sent me the link to Grand Slam Sports, I figured it out pretty quickly. She wanted to reinforce that she’s a better athlete than me and continue her reign as champion of the world. Heck, why not? She’d had some heavy stuff going on and smashing and crashing things usually clears her head a bit – that’s why people play roller derby, right?
I drove over after work to pick her up and because she’s one of the most thoughtful ladies in the world, she met me with a smile and a plate of food. Toasty-dogs and Potato Smiles. If you are unfamiliar with these items, it’s only because you’re not four nor have a four-year-old at home. D.Rough occasionally IS four, so it’s OK! Toasty dogs are hot dogs wrapped up in a piece of toast and potato smiles are preformed frozen potato snacks in the shape of a creepy smiley face. I told you she was thoughtful. (And I think she was trying to slow me down to secure her victory that evening.)
We got to Grand Slam after what seemed like hours of driving (it’s FAR north of the Twin Cities – like 10 minutes), and I was actually really excited to have fun outlet for all of my rage (well, I guess I don’t have THAT much rage, but driving behind idiots quickly enrages me). The place was almost deserted. There were three high school age workers there and two ladies in the batting cage. That’s it. A huge warehouse of a building, all for four customers. This was going to be awesome. We bought the package deal that let us do a bunch of stuff and we set out to do some damage.
We started with mini-golf/putt-putt/pee-wee golf (whatever you Minnesotans call it up here – just decide on one already). This, I KNEW, was going to be my strong event. TheDoctor always claims I defy the laws of Newtonian physics on the golf course, and this is my secret – I’m used to banking shots and avoiding waterfalls and clown heads. Things were about to get real in Grand Slam Castle.
Sometimes D.Rough likes to play turtle polo. It isn’t shown on ESPN very much though.D.Rough wowwed me early out of the gate, however, like the turtle she was riding in the previous photo (and like Coach’s grandma always says), slow and steady wins the race. I pretty much dominated. Look for that to be the last time I say that. (I will however mention to D.Rough’s uncle who told me that she can not be beat at any sport, that mini-golf IS a sport and I DID beat her – here’s the scorecard to prove it – now on my refrigerator…)
Why yes, that IS two holes-in-one right in a row. I'm a pretty big deal.I took a victory lap and rubbed it in (I’m a sore winner), and we headed over to the bumper cars – or Crazy Cars as they’re called here. We waited for the kid to turn on the machine and then we just layed into each other. It was actually hilarious and tons of fun. Seriously, just us two on the cars slamming into each other. These didn’t have a steering wheel, but used two handles to control it. I'm pretty familiar with a little video game from the 80's called Battle Tank, so I felt pretty comfortable on these machines.
As you can see in this video, it’s hard to hold a camera and record and also steer a two-handed bumper car with one hand. When you hear D.Rough laughing hard in the middle of the video, this is where I wrapped my leg around the other handle and drove with one hand and one leg. I’m pretty much a bumper car ninja. It was a close win for me (since there really aren’t points), but a win, nonetheless. But technically we will call it a draw since there isn’t a scoring mechanism at all for me to show to her uncle. But we all know who won, don’t we?… I thought so.
Because I was sure D.Rough had whiplash from the pounding I just gave her (seriously, I can’t stop writing things like this), I thought we should slow things down and play some Skee-Ball (we looked it up – that’s how it’s spelled). I was a little too gung-ho about playing and put my first token in the only machine in the row that wasn’t lit up. Broken. And lost a token. Well played, dingleberry! There weren’t any other games worth playing besides Skee-Ball, so we just kept playing until we had enough tickets to get worthless junk. [D.Rough just sent me a message pointing out the fact that her shoes matched the Skee-Ball machine. Hilarious!! It reminds me of the time a group of us went bowling and one of my ghey friends called the bowling alley to ask what color their rental shoes were, so he could be sure to match his outfit to the rental shoes. No it wasn't Coach, but good guess.]
I didn’t think it was worth it to keep playing until we had 6500 tickets to get a Vikings jersey (I’m not kidding), so we stopped at 38-ish. D.Rough got some orange rings for her friends and I got a wicked cool skull key chain. With purple jewel eyes for extra evil-iosity. Not the most metal thing in the world, but still, it was that or Laffy Taffys.
(I’m totally downplaying the fact that D.Rough handed my ass to me in Skee-Ball AND I had to borrow tickets from her to get the skull keychain – I blame losing an entire game’s worth of tickets because of the broken machine…)Then I took a ride in a tank.
We took a breather because we knew the next round was going to require significant mental AND physical strength. Laser Tag – pronounced “Tayg” here in Minnesota. When someone mentions laser tag around me, I usually bring up the fact that I won a trophy for my laser tag prowess. In fact, the trophy read, “Most Valuable in the Event of Zombie Apocalypse.” That’s pretty high praise. Here’s some detail on my career in laser tag:
- I have played laser tag exactly two times – before now
- I played once at a (clean) bachelor party with PulChevy, Coach, and ChickenLittle… and a group of small children who weren’t with our group. I got yelled at for running and throwing children to the floor (seriously). I hated almost every second of it.
- I played a second time in Green Bay with a convention of … umm… less-than-athletic socially-inept bloggers (much like myself). I apparently made a name for myself as “that long haired guy” as I doubled and tripled people’s scores. This is where I won the aforementioned trophy.
Yes, the gun is bent on the rifleman intentionally, but the trophy is serious as a heart attack from too much cookie dough...D.Rough wanted a challenge, so she got it. We suited up and the high school kid boringly told us how the guns and stuff worked. Then I saw D.Rough pull up a bandana over her mouth (I’m NOT kidding one bit! Look at the photo!!!!)
...and went into a giant room full of obstacles and stairs and balconies – just the two of us. For a split second, I HONESTLY thought I might have a shot at a super sweet make out session and then I feel the barrel of a laser tag gun in the side of my neck. The joke is on her! - There weren’t even laser tag sensors on my neck! Hahahahaha. At that point, I knew I was going to have to take her down.Through my vast experience at laser tag (which I’ll remind you is twice before this), I learned some things (aside from don’t run and don’t push children to the floor by their face when they laugh at you for being a giant target). The first is you have a limited number of shots so keep energizing your gun. The second is you can score major points by storming the other person’s castle and shooting some magic area (totally twss) called the “base” or something. Lesson one, I fully capitalized on – I never ran out of shots and would chuckle when I’d hear D.Rough go “Dang it, I’m out”, right before I unleashed a barrage of red beams into her chest and shoulders (you have NO idea how difficult that was to write in a non-sexual way). Lesson two failed me miserably since I don’t think there was a home base on her side of the room. I spent most of my time over there and never found it. I had to rely on sniper skills alone and play catch up since I dallied trying to find my opponent’s base. And I DID catch up. As you can see by the scoreboard.
I was the green side, D.Rough was the red side. Wait, does that mean I won again? It does. What was that, D.Rough’s uncle? She can’t be beat? (actually, she was pretty good at this and I won’t poke fun at all – especially since she’s on… Team SHARK ATTACK!!!)
We still had batting cage tokens!!! We were already sweaty from running around like morons in the dark, so we figured why take a break? D.Rough used to be quite the softball player from what she tells me. I think the idea of swinging some sort of club appealed to her early on, and then when you don’t get to hit PEOPLE with it, it lost its appeal quickly. Then she got also bored with it because you can’t knock people over. That’s when she decided to play Hockey, Rugby, and Roller Derby. Do you sense a pattern here? Be very scared for me.
D.Rough isn’t a direction reader or a rule follower, even if she HAS read the directions. Despite the huge sign on the cage that says “everyone must wear a helmet. NO EXCEPTIONS!”, she grabbed a bat, opened the cage and stepped in – WITHOUT A HELMET.
She is pretty awesome, to be honest. She was adjusting the height of pitches until she could crush them and could even aim her shots. I had no idea she was THIS good. And all this without protective gear! (And Punky Brewster shoes.)
She made fun of me when it was my turn because I didn’t want to do it. Not only do I loathe baseball, I’m also scared of the ball. Seriously, I’m like George Michael from Arrested development – you throw something at me and I’m ducking. I didn’t want to take future abuse from D.Rough however (it’s amazing how much of a motivator avoiding mocking can be), so I stepped into the cage (and thought to myself, since D.Rough is too young to know what I’m saying out loud, “Two men enter, one man leaves”).Once I opened up my eyes, it wasn’t quite as bad as I remembered from the one year of little league I played. It also helped when I realized all of the pitches would be within the same general area and I really didn’t have to keep my eye on the ball. I waited until I saw a ball in the machine and wildly swung. The bat did the rest. Baseball still isn’t my sport and never will be, but I had to pat myself on the back for hitting more than three pitches. Clearly, D.Rough won this event as she only let one past her when she was adjusting the height of the pitches. She really is a champion. In fact, she went and hit another round of pitches after I had my go at it.
There you have it, folks. Easily one on the best date nights on record. Tie score for the events, as well: D.Rough-2. Chad-2. Bumper Cars unclaimed.
We left the place and immediately headed to Dairy Queen for tiny blizzards. Thanks for being such an awesome girlfriend, D.Rough.
Top 5 things about Grand Slam Sports
1. Best girlfriend + adventure request = best date night ever
2. Mini-golf. Dur.
3. Bumper cars
4. Skee-Ball
5. Laser Tayg
Bottom 5 things
1. You CAN have birthday parties here. You CANNOT bring alcohol to said parties. But I’m pretty sure you can drink in the parking lot…
2. Arcade room was a little lacking on games for grown ups
3. The snack bar closes earlier than the rest of the place so no Icees were had. Sadface
4. Bowlingo was broken the night we went
5. Apparently, you are NOT allowed to bring piñatas to birthday parties here!
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