The story of three impressionable young lads and their touching
journey into the depths of slosh country--San Diego, CA.  Starring
Sean Kahr, Chuck O'Connor and Craig Jacobin as the Sloshball
Orange County missionaries, "Slosh Mission" is a tale for the
ages...a drama of epic proportions...a testament to the power of beer.

Our story begins on Governor Dr & the 805...
Meet Mr. Rick Boynton.  Along with his wife
Tina and emptyg.com founder, Michael
Gibson, Rick has developed one of the finest
Sloshball traditions in North America. Much
like our own Sloshball, Slosh SD requires a
"commissioner" type to keep the beer-swilling
animals in line.  Rick was the rules keeper,
while Tina played the ump.  Apparently Tina
generally loses it and throws a tantrum around
the 7th inning--but we saw nothing of the sort
this year.  Well, there's always next year.
Soon we got to know some of the Sloshball
San Diego regulars. Here you'll find "Weed"
and Melanie.  We're not sure if Weed earned
his name because of some bizarre growth
spurt that happened in jr. high or because he
simply smoked a lot of it at one point.  All we
know is that he spent the last 5 innings in a
perpetual "2 out, 2 on--deuces wild" time
warp, so we'll assume it's the latter.  Plus,
he's only about 5' 8"--so that pretty much
rules out the growth spurt theory.
This is Kim. I didn't get a chance to talk to
her much but Sean mentioned that she was
pretty cool (he spent a lot of quality time
manning the keg while Kim played 2nd).  
Kim was the victim of perhaps the most
brutal collision we've ever seen in
Sloshball--bouncing off of a charging Rick at
2nd base like a well-hit ping pong ball.  Of
course, there was that time Little Timmy
tried to catch McNeill's liner with his teeth.  
Wait a minute,Tim...Kim...spooky.
Then there was Tawndra.  Much like Sylvia
Marquez, the official babe of Sloshball OC
through the mid/late nineties, Tawndra
somehow made it to 2nd base virtually every
time she stepped to the plate.  Flubbed
ground balls, overthrows, dropped pop-ups,
we saw it all.  Tawndra technically spent
more time at 2nd base than the keg itself and
for good reason.
Around the 7th inning, one of the spicier
members of the local citizenry decided to
join the festivities. Finally Chuck found
someone who was on his same wavelength.  
Chuck and (we'll call him "Sparky") made
fast friends and soon spoke of joining forces
to create "Sloshball Hemet" and take the
thing global.   We'll see if anything comes of
it or if it was just the beer talking.
By the end of the game, the two teams were
still only a disputed run apart, so the game
was decided by the annual "boat race"
tradition.  The two teams lined up on
opposite sides, each person with two beers.  
The relay headed down one way and then
came back for the second round. The first
team to finish was declared the winner
(although after two quick beers, the only
thing I felt I'd won was the knowledge that I
was going to have one nasty hangover).
Of course, the team which was behind in the
game (thus having had less visits with our pal
at 2nd base) was more prepped for that final
beer push and took home the boat race title.
In celebration of their Sloshball victory, all the
guys ripped off their shirts and danced around
the field.  Note to Sloshball OC regulars: No,
Sean and I will not be incorporating this
tradition by going topless at Sloshball VIII
next year.  You can stop hyper ventilating
already.  Although Chuckie may want to
show off his eight red chest hairs.
To close out our journey to Sloshball San Diego,
we took part in a final group photo, which
quickly turned into a dog pile.  Tina (bottom left,
black glasses, looking away) sustained extensive
damage to her throwing arm.  Additionally,
Chuck was gauged by his own sunglasses.  But
you'll be happy to know that in 9 separate
pictures of this dog pile, Brian (Padres hat,
center) managed to keep a single drop of beer
from spilling from two full cups.  It was simply
awe-inspiring and truly defined Sloshball San
Diego.  Thanks again for including us guys.