Law’s a Beach

   By: John Lemieux (1L)

What could be better in the life of an embryonic lawyer than a bus ride to Mink Lake, awash in alcohol, and surrounded by fellow students hell bent on corporeal torture? This was the general thought running through my head Friday, September 21 in anticipation of Saturday’s festivities; however, true to Murphy’s Law, I succumbed to sickness early Saturday morning. I was like Homer trying to get to Duff Gardens. "Must…go….to…Law’s…a…beach! Soooooo cold!" All that was missing was the giant hoagie (aghhhhhh…giant hoagie….). So, gentle reader, what I am about to impart to you is second hand (at best).

(Apparently) Law’s a Beach was a fantastic time, and thoroughly enjoyed by all who attended. The day started early as eager young softball players arrived armed with gloves, bats, and containers of alcohol so big they had an undertow. It was easy to mistake the scene for an agricultural irrigation project.

The sojourn to Mink Lake was long and stopped only once for illustrious LSA president Chris Veale to get a coffee. Meanwhile, those left on the bus busied themselves with liquids a wee bit stronger than 7-11’s 6:00 am "Greyhound Special" and only slightly weaker than battery acid.

Four teams vied for softball glory. They included Professor Hopp’s bruising third year team, the second year team, and two first year teams including the heavily favored Nugent’s Boyz. Competition was fierce, rules were haphazardly applied, and when the dust settled the third year team had emerged victorious after narrowly defeating Nugent’s Boyz (the sole sponsored team at the event, providing two flats of beer in an underhanded attempt to gain a competitive advantage).

If anything could top the human drama that played out on the field it was the accompanying BBQ and dance (and minigolf, but that matter is presently before the courts). People on tabletops, alcohol flowing like water, a bust of Bacchus on the bar – it was just another average Law School party. And that, dear reader, was how I didn’t see things. Oh well…there is always next year.