In the year of our Lord Nineteen Eighty-Eight, two legendary gifts were bestowed upon St. Louis:

First, Brett Hull, the Golden Brett, joined the Note.

And shortly after, your hare, equally destined for greatness, was born.

History books rarely connect these two events, but if you can’t respect a deep draft class like that, you're 10-ply, bud.

We’ll be roaming the sacred grounds south of Forest Park where the Checkerdome used to stand. It was a cathedral of spilled beers, lost chicklets, thick mustaches, majestic mullets, and hazy cigarette-era hockey.

Hully used to clap bombs there at a rate that made tendies cry themselves to sleep. By 2019, he was ruled the drunkest man in America, cementing his place as St. Louis' favorite drunk uncle. #OneofUs

So let's get drunk as Hull and give 1988 the celly it deserves. Wear something gold in honor of the Golden Brett, or something Blues, or something dick-shaped in honor of the hare.

Circle up at Berra Park at 6:45. Hare away at 7:00. Runners and walkers trail. Dog friendly. Beer stop. Shot stop. No backchecking.

On after at Colombo's, duh.