-- a former Nome-Beltz high school student, on her memories of playing against Barrow's high school girls basketball team, a perennial contender in 3A basketball until yesterday when they beat ACS.
Congratulations to the Barrow Lady Whalers!
Well, I survived a three day jaunt day to Los Anchorage to watch the high school basketball tournament. Sadly, the team I was rooting for had a rough tourney and finished out of the top three.
Anchorage was as I expected. I spent the majority of my waking hours sitting in a freaking car. I also tried unsuccessfully to have a Manhattan while out on the town.
How, you ask? Well, after my two companions ordered Long Island Iced Teas, I opted for a less dangerous beverage, the Manhattan, which for those of you who are under the age of 70, is mostly just bourbon whiskey with a little flavoring. How hard could it be?
Plenty difficult, it turns out, for the young himbo behind the bar. Having run into obstacles before when ordering the drink, I asked the young guy specifically, "Can you make me a Manhattan?" In hindsight, I suppose some responsibility for the ensuing failures must rest on my shoulders. You see, I neglected to ask if he could make an actual, not approximation of one.
I watched him make the first drink, wondering about his addition of club soda, and the dumping of equal parts of Maker's Mark and some other unknown liquor, but decided to turn this into an instructional moment and let him deliver it. He actually asked me (after I made a face that said, unquestionably, "ick") "How is it?"
At which point I asked him if he knew how to make one. He admitted no. So I explained, and in a nice, nonbitchy way, that it is typically 2 parts bourbon, 1 part sweet vermouth, a dash of bitters and a marashino cherry. But feeling generous. I said I would drink the bad drink anyway, and we would review the recipe when I ordered another one. I went back to playing pool.
So, I was much surprised to return to the bar to have a sip of the Not A Manhattan and find a new drink next to it. The bartender explained that he gave it another try in my absence. So, with renewed hope for the younger generation's work ethic and drink making potential, I took another sip.
Good God! It was worse. I asked as to the nature of the vermouth, which clearly was not sweet vermouth. "I put extra dry in," he said proudly. With much patience I pointed out that that was not what I had asked for - and it turned out that the bar lacked sweet vermouth. He said he would try it with with triple sec, if I liked. Appalled at the suggestion and waste of perfectly good whiskey so far, I gave up and switched drinks.
Which was how ended up drinking shots of Patron chased by hefeweizen and spent the entire next day hungover, in traffic, cursing Anchorage.
Above: Muktuk! Photo pinched from the UAF website, www.uaf.edu
Manhattan: Pinched from http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.barzlutaponorka.cz/obr/manhattan_velky.gif&imgrefurl=http://www.barzlutaponorka.cz/index.php%3Fstranka%3Ddrink&amp;h=300&w=189&sz=19&hl=en&start=11&um=1&amp;tbnid=eJkq9NxhvHMxfM:&tbnh=116&tbnw=73&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmanhattan%2Bdrink%26svnum%3D10%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26sa%3DN