The racehorse - beautifully sculpted, wonderfully proportioned, a dignified, stylish, example of class and breeding. When we watch the best, fastest steeds in the world compete for the Triple Crown we humans feel infused with the gallantry of those noble beasts. It’s even called “The Sport of Kings”, a phrase which describes royal interest in watching races, not actually participating directly.

Even so, you might understand how a group of young men attending the Preakness came under the inspiring spell of the magnificent horseflesh competing in the race, became confused, and decided to add a new jewel to the crown. But this
time for humans.

“Where to race?”, one must surely have asked the others.

“How about one at a time across the tops of this row of port-o-potties right here before us?”, another must have surely replied.

“Brilliant!”, they all must have shouted in unison, raising their shiny, hard cans of beer.

The bravest then climbed up—buff, ripped and muscular—sporting a well-defined abdominal “six-pack”, ready to race. Another young man, ripped as well but in a different way, and sporting a six-pack made of aluminum, may have said “Wait! I was gonna go first!”, and promptly chucked his open can of beer at his former best friend.

As the first competitor began his run across the outhouse roofs, everyone got in the act and he was forced to dodge a hailstorm of beer and aluminum in order to complete his leg of the race.

It must have seemed like a good idea at the time, as a line soon formed to be next that was even longer than the lines to use the insides of the port-o-potties. Thus was a new, proud, racing tradition formed.

But next year, let’s use draft beer instead. Those plastic cups yield far less of a surprise when hitting innocent bystanders.

See the spectacle at this link:
http://my.break.com/media/view.aspx?ContentID=298190

It’s truly inbelievable. The SPCA and PETA would never permit it.