“I don’t know guys, this doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.”
Khris Middleton was standing outside of the Bradley Center in nothing but his boxers. Around him were several of his teammates, including Caron Butler, Zaza Pachulia, and Ersan Ilyasova. Caron dismissed Khris’ apprehensions. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody’s ever hurt themselves doing the Milwaukee Miller Madness.”
“What about Giannis? He’s been passed out over there on the sidewalk for the past twenty minutes.”
Caron looked to where the skinny Greek rookie was motionless. “He’s just not used to the cold. You played in Detroit, you know what cold is.”
Shivering, Khris answered, “Actually, we didn’t usually have wind chills below zero.”
“Whatever. You know the drill – drink this 12-pack of Miller, then build a three-tiered snowman, and if you do it in less than thirty minutes, you win the prize,” Caron explained as Khris looked on with a doubting expression.
“Points deducted for crooked or otherwise sub-par snowmen,” Zaza added. “Now get to it!”
Cracking open the first beer, Khris only managed a sip before stopping. “How’d you get this beer so cold?”
Caron ignored the question. “Shut up and drink! If you don’t start chugging it now, no way you’re making it in under thirty minutes.”
So Khris drank, and drank, and drank. After the ninth beer, he was feeling decidedly drunk, and he was shivering violently. “I think I’m calling it quits here. I can’t feel my feet or my hands.” He sat down on the curb.
Ersan picked up his dispirited teammate and handed him another can. “You still have fifteen minutes. Drink this beer, it make you feel better.” But Khris fell down hard to the sidewalk once Ersan stopped propping him up. Against a background of laughter from his fellow Bucks, he unleashed a large amount of beer-vomit from his stomach. Face down, he couldn’t even lift himself up enough to avoid lying in the freshly-created chunder puddle.
“Whoa! Sick! Gross!” came the voices of his teammates. Caron stepped in, carefully avoiding the puke, to try to get Khris back up, but the second-year player was passed out, lips blue from hypothermia. Caron dropped him back on the ground.
“Well, guys, it looks like Khris didn’t quite make it. Okay Wolters, you’re next! Hopefully the Minnesota boy knows how to hold his alcohol!”
And so the traditional hazing ritual continued. To this day, no player has ever successfully finished Milwaukee Miller Madness.