Turtle Racing at Brennan’s Pub

Aren’t we taught as children that turtles are slow? When I think about those 4-legged shell dwellers, I seem to remember phrases along the lines of “at a turtle’s pace” and “as slow as a turtle” coming to mind. This being said, I found it interesting when I heard that every Thursday night, a giant group of folks gather in the back courtyard of an Irish pub called Brennan’s to partake in the popular sport of turtle racing.

Thursday evening, the event kicked off shortly after I arrived, which was fashionably later than 10:00pm. The announcers took the stage, the crowd clustered, and a cooler was brought out housing the evening’s reptilian athletes. Audience members were then given the opportunity to bet on a turtle or to race one of their own. After all the bets were in, the rules were read.

• “Do not point at the turtles.” The crowd was asked to chant this back to the announcers and a comedic illustrated version of the rule was also showed for emphasis. Those that point at the turtles in the middle of a race, and believe me it is way harder than you think not to do, have to pay a fine. The 1st offense costs you $10, the 2nd $20, and the 3rd a whopping $50. The money goes to different charities, with the current recipient being the American Cancer Society.

•   Stay seated during the race (it scares the turtles)
•   Don’t throw anything at the turtles [one would think that would be common sense but I suppose the need for rules usually come from past incidents]
•   Keep the alcohol lane clear (we need our drinks)
•   Don’t be a douche bag (I know it’s hard)

After we had established the dos and don’ts of turtle racing, the event began. Race 1 commenced as 3 large turtles and 1 teeny guy were placed into the ring and inside of a plastic container. Once the container was lifted up, the turtles scurried frantically to the finish line. Of course, some over anxious bar stars pointed at the turtles so the official referees threw flags onto the course, scooped the turtles up, and went to the crowd with a bucket to collect the fines. After five fines were paid and the race was delayed multiple times, there was finally a winner. Gizmo was the first turtle victor of the night and his racer reached into the orange prize bag and won…drum roll…an enema! The races continued, as did the drinks, the announcer’s level of intoxication, and the crowd’s enjoyment.

Highlights from the evening included

(For the boys): Girls in short dresses, tight pants, and short shorts were asked to bend down and place turtles into the ring on behalf of the fellas racing them. The announcers sometimes felt the need to throw a flag and make the girls repeat this exercise again and again until “proper form” was executed.

(For the girls): The few male turtle betters that weren’t able to locate a female assistant had to put their own turtles into the ring. I noticed that the announcers were not so quick to make the boys repeat this bend over and stick your butt out turtle hand-off maneuver.

(For the daring): A girl in a very short dress racing a turtle the announcers named Crotchless Drawers bent down multiple times to put her fella into the race track while revealing an ironic similarity to the name of her turtle (can we say censor bar needed if those photos get published?).

A girl with a broken finger raced a turtle called “The Douchey Giant” and won a set of green hair curlers.

The person that raced “A Trojan is only good once” won a bottle of Summer’s Eve.

The evening finally ended after the announcer explained that this was to be the last race because one of the referees really had to pee. The female winner of the evening’s last competition enthusiastically took the podium to collect her blue ribbon and reach into the prize bag. As she buried her hand deep into the abyss of ridiculous prizes, she declared, “To be honest, I really want a douche.”