The Cincinnati Bengals opened up their home slate against the Denver Broncos and Tim Tebow. As part of a twisted promotion, we were subjected to Reds mascots in Ocho-Cinco jerseys. The Ben-Gals were on hand before the game doing their little dance. And there’s more.
Today I sat in the club level. Everyone knows one of the perks of the club level (aside from being able to track the flight of the ball as well as anywhere in the park) is that all the food you want is on the house.
I came in from watching the first few innings of the game, and what do you know. The Ben-Gals have gathered in the club level to do battle with the freezers on the club level concourse.
And they were just as you’d imagine a bunch of regular girls. There was about 8 tables of them. If you listened closely you’d overhear them talking about things like their guys, their hair, and where they wanted to shop. And I looked to see what a Ben-Gal liked to eat (suspecting their diets were strict). Oddly enough, the only thing I saw any of these girls who were eating at the 8 or so tables was ice cream. Push-ups, fudge-sickles, and ice cream sandwiches. They were absolutely going to work.
I had more important things to worry about, like the Reds scoring a run and getting Homer Bailey the win. I returned to my seat, and didn’t give it another thought for a bit.
My sister returned from inside with her friend and was talking as if she was offended about something (you know the way high school girls do). I asked her what was up, and she replied:
“Oh my God, those fucking Ben-Gals were inside crushing all the ice-cream. There was no more left. And that one six foot seven dark one who looked like a transvestite was double-fisting fudge sickles. I really wanted one of those.”
Cincinnati fans, the Bengals might not win the AFC North; but their girls will come to your town and put your fucking ice-cream parlors lights out.