 glides around the floor like a whirling dervish, and he proceeds to lie down on the scorer's table like he's lying on a tanning bed. And then spontaneous combustion erupted, and all hell broke loose. A flying beer cup, yes, it was an empty beer cup. People always screw this story. It wasn't a cup of beer. Flew out of the stands, thrown by a guy who became legend in Detroit for all the wrong reasons by the name of John Green.