Rangers Pitcher Paid With Hot Dog Money
It’s easy to have a Love-Hate relationship with where you’re from. There are days when you’re proud to live where you do. You’d wear it on your sleeve if you could and will ask your close friends and neighbors: “Why would anyone want to live anywhere but (insert your state’s name)?” You may even find yourself jumping to your state’s defense in the wake of criticism or state-based insults.
Florida knows what I’m talking about, right y’all?
It’s hard to pick up arms to defend your state, however, if they’re being chided for doing a thing that you also hate.
Being born and raised in Texas, I’m quite accustomed to answering the same two questions from people who have never visited the Lone Star State: “So, like, does everyone there ride horses and wear cowboy hats?” and “Is everything REALLY bigger in Texas?”
I know the latter sounds like the beginning of a terrible skin flick, but it’s been asked of me and every other Texan by every outsider we encounter.
Truth is, Texans do have a way to do things on a big scale. Our women have big hair. We drive big cars from our expansive houses on multiple acres of land to our enormous megamarkets, which more closely resemble small amusement parks than establishments to buy milk and bread. We have churches with their own traffic lights here, for Christ’s sake. It’s ridiculous.
Texans don’t always do things “bigger” for the sake of sheer size. Sometimes we get carried away and, instead of being content with a thing the way it is, we want to blow it out of proportion.
It’s given us the reputation of being showy and gluttonous.
We weren’t content with the Corn Dog (a foodstuff which Texas claims as its own), so we began deep-frying the hell out of any food we could imagine. We have since brought abominations such as deep-fried Twinkies and deep-fried beer into this world, and for this I sincerely apologize on behalf of my people. Yet, there are some things that I simply cannot apologize for, only because I too am shaking my finger in shame at my state.
Last year, Texans half-jokingly invented “The Boomstick,” a two-foot long tube of animal parts topped with Texas-style chili, nuclear yellow cheese product (we call it “Nacho”), jalapeños and caramelized onions. The last two ingredients, by the way, are the closest thing to vegetables a Texan may ever eat, and only because they most often accompany a sizzling skillet of Tex-Mex fajitas.
We may be Texan, but most of us knew this thing was ridiculous. We ordered it with fear and trepidation, mostly to share with several friends and post pictures of us posing with it on Instagram.
It was a carnival sideshow of processed food, and we wanted to sneak a peak.
Yet, the free market works in mysterious ways, and even though many of us bought this beast on a dare or to share, the Boomstick brought in an estimated Five Hundred Thousand dollars to the Ballpark in Arlington.
Five. Hundred. Thousand.
To put this into context, the Texas Rangers could pay pitcher Robbie Ross’ annual salary strictly with hot dog money. I’ve heard of working for peanuts, but this is something else entirely. Something…better?
And because the Ballpark in Arlington pulled in so much money, they’re offering the Boomstick for the 2013 Baseball season, along with the “Beltre Buster” and the “Totally Rossome.”
The former is a one-pound hamburger named after third basemen Adrian Beltre and comes covered with eight (EIGHT!) ounces of bacon, grilled onions and cheese.
The latter is affectionately named after Robbie Ross and is a spin off of the massive sausage fest that effectively paid his salary.
The Rossome is topped with brisket (another Texas staple), pico di gallo, sour cream and…you seriously won’t believe this… Doritos chips.
Priced to move at just $32 a piece, the Rossome could be just what the Rangers need to beef up their bullpen…both figuratively and literally.
I mean, you heard me say that this thing comes with two kinds of meat and is covered in dairy product and corn chips, right?
Image Credit: Texas Ballpark Boomstick Facebook page