Every day can be a victory parade

I experienced several waves of déjà vu during Friday’s massive Brewers victory parade and celebration rally. Early in the day, before the parade, I found myself chatting with a dear friend beneath the beatific gaze of the building-sized Bob Uecker mural on Jackson Street. Had I done this before? It sure seemed like I had. Later, at the rally at the increasingly packed and chaotic Summerfest grounds, an older woman in front of me in line for beer was going into extreme detail about her hellish workday. This seemed awfully familiar, didn’t it?

To be sure, that was nothing familiar about last week. The Milwaukee Brewers had won the World Series! For the first time in franchise history! The subsequent celebration in downtown Milwaukee was estimated to be 750,000 people strong—the largest single-day gathering in Wisconsin history. For comparison, American Family Field holds 42,000 people. Lambeau Field tops off at around 81,000. The 2021 victory parade for the Milwaukee Bucks was clocked at 100,000. Was the Brewers’ three-quarters-of-a-million estimate accurate? Sure, let’s say that it absolutely was. It sure as hell felt like it.

Friday’s celebration was the definition of extraordinary. Nothing exactly like it had happened before. And yet now, in the cold light of November, I’m struck by how weirdly commonplace so much of it was for me.

I got up early and took the bus downtown, just like I had 1,000 times before. I walked five or six blocks, just like I had 1,000 times before. I bumped into friends and colleagues, sat for a bit at Cathedral Square Park, enjoyed a quick beverage at Your Office, walked to the Summerfest grounds, marveled at how awful it is to cross Lincoln Memorial Drive outside the Summerfest grounds, got a High Life at the Miller Lite Oasis, and contemplated a Saz’s Sampler Platter, just like I had 1,000 times before. (The Sampler Platter line was too long, sadly.) And then there were those rounds of déjà vu.

Yes, the day also featured streets stuffed with hundreds of thousands of people and buses stuffed with newly minted World Champions, but so many of the smaller details were familiar to me, routine to me. I suspect I wasn’t alone. Later in the afternoon, some friends and I got a bite to eat at GTO and enjoyed some David Lynch-themed cocktails at Sugar Maple. Had I done this before? It sure seemed like I had.

This fall marks my 30th year of living in Milwaukee. I moved here in 1996, straight out of high school, to attend UWM. I’ve lived in Milwaukee my entire adult life. I’ve gone to school here, played in a band here, made countless friends here, made more than a few enemies here, fucked up here, improved here, fucked up some more here, forged an unlikely career here, gotten married here, and raised a family here. This town is literally my livelihood. I love it more and more every year, and you better believe I’ve been head over heels for the past month.

I’m proud to call myself a Milwaukeean and I’m proud of this city—warts, problems, struggles and all. During this wonderfully heady World Series afterglow, I’ve seen some of my fellow proud residents take shots at full-time (and sometimes professional) Milwaukee-haters who have suddenly been singing the praises of the Milwaukee Brewers. I’ve refrained from taking my own shots, but if you’ll permit me, I’ll take one now. Ahem:

These dull, desperate, low-energy and non-contributing losers can fuck right off. What do these dipshits do for this city other than talk shit? Nothing. This Mickey Mouse website does more for Milwaukee in a WEEK than these dorks do for it all year.

Like I said, ahem.

Way back in 2014, I wrote a piece about living in Milwaukee for half my life—18 years at that point. “Milwaukee is a wonderful place,” I wrote. “Challenging at times, sure, but wonderful nonetheless. Live here, work here, eat here, drink here, play here, fall in love here, and, if it’s your thing, raise a family here. Take it all in. The wonderful thing about Milwaukee is that its future is still up in the air, and the chance to make a positive difference in the city is very real, and very exciting.”

Those thoughts still ring true with me today. And there’s a flip-side that rings true, too. This is how I expressed it in 2014:

But it also works the other way: The city has the power to change you. Before I came here in 1996, I was just another dope headed off to college, a gawky goof more interested in sleeping half the day than in getting to know my future home. Eighteen years later, the city has come to define me, and has given me experiences and perspectives I never thought I’d have. I’m proud to say I’ve lived in Milwaukee for my entire adult life. I’m equally proud to say I intend to keep it that way.

In 2026, I’d put it more simply: you get out what you put in. Want to feel the warmth and acceptance of being part of a community? Throw your hat in the ring and get out there. Want to feel the satisfaction of actively contributing to the welfare of an entire city? Dream something up and do it. Want to feel like a once-in-a-generation record-breaking celebration could be a simple Friday-morning bus ride away? Live here and love it here. No déjà vu needed.

Will we ever experience something like last week again? Well, there’s always next year. Or next month. Or next week. Or tomorrow.

Want more Milwaukee Record? Subscribe to our free weekly newsletter and/or support us on Patreon.