Rocky-tough intensity, infused Dangerfield impersonations, and death-defying bubble-cloud sneak attacks at the most important sporting event of all time
There’s a lot to tell about the premiere Bay State Bong-Off, which went down at the Summit Lounge in Worcester last night.
The bulk of it will have to wait for the inevitable Netflix docu-series, or for our grandchildren to hear a half-a-century from now over s’mores by a crackling fire.
Tell us, poppa, about one of the coolest things you saw in all your years?
In the meantime, it’s a fool’s errand to summarize such a spectacular occasion, but I will nonetheless share some particularly standout moments, using first names only in case some of the participants decide to use their talents for evil someday and go work for the government …
Chris from C3 Industries tossed the first pitch in what I’m already calling the most earth-shatteringly important sporting event of any millennium. Let the history books show if anyone’s still writing those things that Gina from Revelry hosted with Dab Cow Girl, who bravely led us into unfamiliar territory.
Root & Bloom flew in a true ringer named Anthony from Puerto Rico. The mightiest of Kumite competitors, he packed an eighth of Cheetah Piss into a hand-blown bathtub, paused to pound a Voodoo Ranger IPA, and chased the whole affair with a smooth exhale.
Ross from Rove flipped all conventions upside down. Instead of simply weighing out his half-gram like the others and then packing it into his bowl, he put his whole enormous bong onto the scale, noted the weight, then removed it, filled the bowl with Blueberry Muffin from Native Sun, and attempted to return the loaded bong back to the scale, hoping that the difference would come to .5. We told him that it’s easier to simply weigh the weed, and he agreed.
Zack from Theory Wellness buried his half gram like Harry Dab Houdini. Then, without taking a breath and with the smoke still smoldering around his innards, he grabbed a backup and theatrically doubled down. Powers beyond my control as a mere mortal judge of this affair determined the flourish ran afoul of the official rules, but it was worth it for the memories alone. Smoke one for Zack. Hell, smoke two.
Hannah from New Leaf ground up half-a-gram of Jungle Thunder and shoved all of it into the tiniest tool of the night, sparking a trend of smaller pieces making for much bigger clouds.
On the longer end of success, Rhi from Bada Bloom was a musician with it, in full command of the room while under the spotlight. Neff from Berkshire Roots also topped the musical marquee, swinging multiple sharp axes like a stoner Buckethead meets Yngwie maelstrom drawn by Frank Frazetta.
Jake from Fine Fettle added some Dark Crush tobacco to his salad. I asked if it was for some kind of intended effect, like thicker clouds or something. Nope. “That’s just how I always smoke.” Talk about grace, the third note on which we were asked to evaluate, second only to showmanship on the precision compendium of most important metrics for a bong-toking Olympian.
Speaking of which, this seems as good a time as any for a group salute to Michael Phelps, the reigning champ by default before a new royal family was crowned at the Summit last night.
Down to the top ten out of more than twenty contenders, all fierce competition in their own right, the final bracket was a winner’s circle enveloping eras.
Asked when he invested in the pristine vase piece by Dellene Peralta that he brought in his quiver, Mike from Green Choice in Blackstone looked up from his cereal bowl full of Originals Gelato and confirmed: “Back when we were getting four-thousand a pack.”
(Steve from OPM Glass in Providence, who was on the judging panel with me along with Bailey and Bobby Nuggz, confirmed the piece’s provenance to circa 2006.)
One of the youngest most impressive lads among the seasoned wolves, Gabe repping for Paper Crane opened the second round by ripping an entire two-and-a-half gram tulip and then chugging the bong water.
For a moment, it didn’t seem surmountable. But the human spirit knows no bounds.
Shara from Perpetual helped organize the jam. So kind of like a little leaguer whose dad is the coach, she had to go the extra mile to earn her place on the pedestal. To that end, she smuggled suds in past the judges in her cleavage and then blew big bubble clouds into the crowd. For that feat, she was awarded third place.
In the penultimate position, Tanner from PXV Extracts demonstrated a canna-aquatic tribute to the Triple Lindy jump from Back To School. His team came to kick ass and went the distance. I’m pretty sure that one of the guys in his pit crew had a torch in a belt holster, only to be outdone by Kassandra from Coastal Healing revealing a banger from thin air.
The champion of them all was Adam from Impressed. Though hours earlier, he was just plain old Adam. He’d bought a ticket as a spectator, and was sad to find out that only people from licensed businesses could compete.
Meanwhile, Kara from Impressed had just learned that their star toker and founder couldn’t come through as planned. They needed someone. Standing in the cold outside of the Summit with his hard case like a young and hungry fighter in an Oscar-winning boxing flick, Adam was that someone.
And kids, gather ’round and listen to my lore, for I have never seen a person rip a bong like this before. The guy devours grams to warm him up for breakfast. The hits he didn’t disappear into the ether were somehow transformed into golden Toon Town smoke rings that were then pawned by lucky fans for several hundred dollars at a chop shop down the street just minutes after crowns were monogrammed.
At the end, I saw Jacob from Regenerative, the fourth-place victor, returning the glass piece that he wowed all the judges with to the front desk.
I asked, “You did that with a rental?”
“Yeah man, I didn’t have the time to clean my own shit.”
