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The Brat Pack: Wisconsin relishes its racing tradition by Molly Mogren The sweat is dripping down my face. Forty-thousand pairs of eyes are on me, some belonging to Alex Rodriguez of the New York Yankees, Cy Young candidate Johan Santana and American League All-Star pitcher Joe Nathan. I make an attempt to look presentable, but you wouldn’t know it because I am wearing a ridiculous 20-pound large-mouth bass costume on the field of the Metrodome. Ah, the perks of interning for a major league baseball team. Every Thursday during the 2004 Twins season, I got to leave my windowless, blue cubicle in the depths of the Metrodome and let fans peg me with squishy baseballs. If you got nailed by the ball, you hit the turf and flopped around like a fool for 15 seconds. Then you’d get hoisted up in the armless, blob-like foam costume and do it again. Though I saw the humor in the fishing contest, I felt it a humiliating chore. I’d gripe and whine like Napoleon Dynamite each time the office requested my presence for the pre-game show. Finally, one day Andy Price, the Twins director of game presentation and the brain behind the casting contest, said to me, “You know, in Milwaukee, it is an honor to be one of the racing sausages.” An honor. You mean people want to put on those tube steak costumes, race around Miller Park in front of thousands of screaming fans? I understand the humor. I mean, come on, encased meat is inherently funny. But are people really lining up to squeeze into these costumes? After my fishing experience, I found it hard to believe, although I was intrigued by Price’s words. Within the first few minutes of my sausage research, I discovered the role of a fish and the role of a sausage aren’t exactly in the same ballpark. While members of the Brew Crew, the Brewers’ in-game promotions troop, often race in the nearly 10-foot-tall sausage costumes, fans of the sausages champ at the bit for a chance at a cameo sausage role. Guest racers include professional baseball players Hideo Nomo and Geoff Jenkins, writer Jim Cryns of Northshore Lifestyle Magazine and even the Chicago Cubs’ bat boy. It seems this silly promotion established a reputation that extends beyond Miller Park. Klement’s Racing Sausages have come a long way from their humble beginnings in the Milwaukee County Stadium. The Hot Dog, the Polish, the Italian and the Brat were born in the early '90s, with the sole job of running a race on the electronic scoreboard. The meats hustled their buns through a digital downtown Milwaukee, finally ending up in the Brewer’s outfield and running toward home. The digital race quickly caught on with Brewers fans. Someone within the Brewers’ organization joked that they should take the race a step further by racing sausages live in the stadium. While the idea was initially a joke, it soon became a reality. “Every Sunday the sausage costumes would finish the race. They took off and everyone would lose it,” says Chris Peck, the Milwaukee Brewers’ Brew Crew supervisor. “When the team began to struggle, the sausages became more popular with fans, and we stopped running the race on the scoreboard and did the entire race in the stadium.” And just like a plump brat on a grill, the popularity and presence of Klement’s Racing Sausages continued to expand. Unlike many other mascots, the sausages weren’t just for the kids. “Adults got a kick out of the sausages,” Peck says. “People would be inebriated by the sixth inning and would start betting on their favorite sausage.” Outside the stadium, sausage merchandise popped up everywhere. Wisconsinites proudly show their love of the wienies with window clings, key chains and magnets. “Sausage merchandise is a big deal. I have to smile when I see sausage t-shirts all over downtown Milwaukee,” Peck says. The racing sausages made such a big splash in the Dairy State that sausage-inspired races and in-game presentations began sprouting in other baseball stadiums across the country. In Pittsburgh, you can watch the Racing Perogies, based on a Polish dish consisting of dough stuffed with potatoes. And in Minnesota, there are the fish. Neither of these promotions’ popularity compare with the sausages at Miller Park. But as far as traditions go, few exist in Wisconsin with more ubiquity than the brat and sausage family. Backyard barbeques, tailgates, Lambeau field, fundraisers – the Wisconsin tradition goes hand-in-hand with tube steak consumption. This sense of tradition is a main reason the racing sausages came to such great popularity in Wisconsin and why other teams have imitated, but never duplicated, Milwaukee’s success. |
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