(Don't know what a sportsgasm is? Neither do I, but I think we both will by the end of this piece.)
Guess what's going on in Atlanta this weekend. If you guessed "everything," then you're right.
For three straight nights over Labor Day weekend, the ATL is going to be a sports fans wet dream.
The fun starts Friday night at 7:30 PM when the Cincinnati Reds FINALLY come to Atlanta for a baseball game. (For some reason known only to Johnny Bench, I am a Reds fan.)
Fifteen years ago, these former division rivals played each other 15 times a season. Now, it seems like the only time the Reds are in Atlanta is if they get traded here.
(On a completely unrelated airport side note: Hartsfeld-Jackson is the bubonic plague of North American airports; avoid it at all costs. For God's sake, walk to your destination if you have to, but do not go through this airport. If you have a layover here, kill yourself, it will be less painful.)
Living in Atlanta and being a Reds fan is impossibly sucky. The day the 2009 schedule was released, I crapped my pants. Why? I found out the Reds were making one trip to Atlanta, ONE F-ing trip. My one-year-old nephew has made more trips to Atlanta this year.
On top of that, the trip was scheduled for September. Any half intelligent Reds fan not named Jeff Brantley knows that the team is usually 37 games out of first and has traded all their stars by this point.
So basically, I get to watch a Triple-A team wearing Reds uniforms. Awesome.
The only thing that could possibly make up for watching this abomination of a team would be if for some reason thousands of 18-22 year old drunk college girls were making their way to town.
Wait, what the hell did you just say? College Gameday is in Atlanta on Saturday!
For those of you that don't know, there are only two days a year when it's guaranteed that girls will get really drunk and wear less clothing than a porn star playing strip poker at a pool party serving free tequila. Halloween and the weekend that Gameday is in town.
Thank you Chik-Fil-A for bringing in Alabama and Virginia Tech to kickoff the College Football Season. Every male in Atlanta is deeply indebted to you.
Oh, and keep reading, because the weekend only gets more exciting.
After Gameday concludes and the APD makes at least 31 disorderly conduct arrests, there's an actual game to be played.
Football fans will head to the Ga. Dome at 8 PM to see how drunk the college girls got (some married men who are with their wives might have to watch some of the game), pathetic Reds fans like myself will be at Turner Field slitting our wrists at the thought of Drew Stubbs and Wladimir Balentien on the same team.
After reading the first five paragraphs, you're probably doing one of two things right now: mapquesting directions to Atlanta or googling 'Hot SEC chicks.' Well, stop that and keep reading because the weekend still isn't over.
After 90 percent of the city rolls out of bed Sunday morning smelling like burnt latex and citrus vodka, the fun starts all over.
Adam Rosales and the high-powered Reds take the field once again at 1:30 PM. Do you think I can do it? Sit through three Reds games in three days? The way the Reds have played this season, trying to kill myself with a clothes hanger might be more fun.
If the Reds play so poorly that they make me want to drown my cat, my cat just might get to keep all of his nine lives because there is something awesome that will surely distract me Sunday night: drunk rednecks.
Drunk rednecks make Broncos receiver Brandon Marshall look mature. Lucky for me, my cat and depressed Reds fans all over Atlanta, Drunk Redneck Revival hits the city Sunday night when NASCAR brings the Pep Boys 500 to town.
Think about this. Is this even safe?
Rednecks, drunk college kids, and Reds fans all in the same town on one weekend.
Might the city implode on itself? Will the world record for unintended pregnancies be broken? Will the CDC be fighting an AIDS outbreak by Saturday afternoon? Will redneck men even be interested in hot chicks that aren't their daughter? So many questions, and only three days until all the answers are revealed.
Labor Day weekend in Atlanta just might be our generation's Woodstock. Or not.