E, my handsome English husband, is having a birthday. In his forties, going on 20. So what do you get a guy who has pretty much everything he needs? A dinner with friends, and beer, but of course.
It's a good thing I had more than a dinner planned. The restaurant was a huge fail. Let's fast forward to the end of the dinner. Because I was quite proud of my mini cupcakes with Happy Birthday candles.
Full of sub-par food, beer and cupcakes, we head off to play a peculiar game known as Whirlyball. So what is Whirlyball, you ask?
Whirlyball can only be described as an odd combination of lacrosse and basketball played from the confines of a....bumper car. Yep, the carnival rides. Sounds odd right? Trust me, I had my reservations.
After a very brisk briefing by the referee (oh yeah, it's that serious), we jumped into our cars, racquets in hand.
The buzzer sounded and our cars sparked to life. From there it was a whirly mess of flying racquets, sketchy 'driving' and a flying whiffle ball. I can't even begin to describe to you how fun it was. I think every single one of us turned into giddy, overly competitive children in an instant.
The goal is simply this; sling the ball into the target on your team's goal. Meanwhile you'll be slammed by other cars, yelled at, and awkwardly trying to scoop it up the ball in your racket. It was surprisingly brutal in the funnest way imaginable.
After an hour we peeled our sweaty bums off the car seats and laughed the whole way over to the mini golf course next door. 18 holes of our best, and most serious, putting.
A perfect way to end the evening. I laughed so hard my cheeks hurt long after I had gone to bed.
So, what do you have after a night of Whirlyball, drinks and mini golf? One epic hangover and bruise covered legs. That's what. I'd do it again in a hot minute...
Have you played Whirlyball before? Would you?
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