TMS Investigates: The Power of Determination in Milwaukee

April 22, 2016 | Comments (0) | by Shooter Muldoon

Hello there, welcome to Science. I am your bartender and lecturer, Dr. Science Muldoon. I come to you today in search of the truth. Namely: how long will it take a stadium full of Milwaukee fans to suffocate themselves in bratwurst-and-Lite-beer-leavings, given unlimited time and under the condition that the material itself remains static indefinitely?

I know you're shocked. That's because science is about asking uncomfortable questions. Except political science, which is for people who don't know what to major in, but aren't popular enough to drink with the marketing or communications students..

Anyhow, let's start with some Science Facts:
  • An adult produces about 1 ounce of stool per 12 pounds of person. 
  • We realize that the 1 ounce measure refers to weight, but since we're speaking of a certain state of matter, we'll convert it to volume, since water itself is about 1 oz of weight per 1 oz of volume.
  • The average adult human is 166 pounds. Since this is Wisconsin, we're bumping that up to 185, Tommy Thompson be damned! So that's a per-capita production of roughly 15.42 ounces daily.
  • Average attendance in 2015 was 31,390 per game.
  • Miller Park covers 8.4 acres, and has a roof height of 220 feet.
  • It would take 4,655,926,995 baseballs to fill Miller Park.
  • That's a total of just over 224,784,545 gallons of Ryan Braun t-shirt dye.
  • One game, with everyone doing a day's worth of dirty sinful business, would create 3,776.67 gallons.
  • Top TMS scientists worked with these numbers and came out with a figure of roughly 2.5 baseballs of liquid volume of Milwaukee Yuck Juice (TM) per person per day.

Disclaimer: Muldoon majored in the humanities and was at best an indifferent student of mathematics.

The Maddening Crowd

Ever see your team blow a game so bad that you just want to unload your bowels in anger? We've seen Ryan Dempster, Kevin Gregg, and Neal Cotts in pinstripes, so we definitely have. It got us thinking, what if an average Milwaukee baseball crowd got so mad at a blown lead that they began to simultaneously defecate? They don't get super powers or anything, but they do fall into kind of a diarrhea trance (this also explains living in Milwaukee for decades on end). How long until they tax the volumetric capacity of Miller Park and suffocate themselves? More importantly, how can we measure this in baseball games and seasons? 

It would take 59,330 games for them to achieve this monumental feat of self-destruction. And at 81 games (we aren't assuming playoffs because hahahhahahahhaha), it would add up to 732 seasons of horrifying futility.

Now, if we're being super accurate, that number of fans, at a liquid volume of 17.54 gallons per Brewer fan, would cause a total displacement of 549,002 gallons. But we're ignoring that for now, because more math make brain hurt.

That's an intimidating amount of time for a human to ponder, but it's also completely within human scale. The Weihenstephan Brewery traces its roots to 768 AD, and even the brewer making the beer you can buy at the store today claims their founding date as 1040 AD. That's plenty of time to watch a future-cathedral full of robust men and equally robust women meet their ultimate end in a self-generated sea of torment. Hell, that's enough time for an ageless Nosferatu brewer to watch it start to happen a second time and go "FOOLSSSSS! Do they not learn from the misssstakesssss of the passsssst?!?"

Wow! That's good science.

The Lonely Sentinel

But say we just wanted one person to achieve this on their own, standing eternal guard in the ruins of Milwaukee with naught for company but a Ryan Braun jersey, a decaying handlebar mustache, and an endless supply of White Castle sliders soaked in raw chicken juice.

The age of mankind comes to a gentle twilight. The stars burn out and ignite anew. The aeon of science gives way to the aeon of magic, then to the aeon of the Battletoad. Benevolent alien archaeologists descend on the our home of antiquity and investigate the sole remaining life form - the lonely, determined sentinel. Like a single grain of cocaine on a velvet blacklight painting of a panther, he stands alone in the darkness.

He cries a single tear and says "I was ageless when your world was young." 

"GLEEP GLOP," they reply, which is a very touching and bittersweet sentiment. 

He cannot die, save for in a Hellish Jacuzzi of his own devising. How long will he torment, reader?

5,102,385 years and 9 months.

That's what you get for making a Bartman joke in 2016, dick. 


Science is magic. But the real magic ... is inside YOU.

Wait, I didn't mean it like that. That's gross.