It had to be a kid. No man would do this to another man.

Men will cheat at cards, get too physical during a pick-up basketball game, even sleep with their best friend's ex-girlfriend.

But steal another man's beer from his own refrigerator? Brother, that's a high crime.

Real men know this.

The beer was purchased for the best of reasons — a gathering of men. Mrs. G. bought it for us; she has a soft spot for my friends.

It was a cute little pony keg. Imported stuff.

We planned a howling, rage-at-the-moon evening of bad behavior. If women wanted to attend, they did so at their own risk. (Some did.)

Cigars were allowed and burping encouraged.

The menu included grilled meat slathered in barbecue sauce — and half the fun would be lighting the fire, because men love lighting a fire as much as grilling meat.

Vegetables were optional.

This party was a sequel: The Second, Possibly Annual Lost Saturday.

Last summer two buddies came over one morning — well before lunch time — to retrieve a case of beer left over from another party. They stayed all day.

Mrs. G. made us lunch. We drank beer. We watched two ball games. We napped, woke up, drank more beer. With a stereo blaring over the backyard, we bragged shamelessly, blew smoke rings and fired up the grill.

Before we knew it, Saturday was Sunday.

We talked about doing it again for most of a year, but too many responsibilities derailed every plan. Until recently.

So, anticipation was high. And everyone knows I stock a good selection of cold beer. (Apparently, more people than I thought.)

Among my friends, the fact that I have a rusting refrigerator full of beer in my carport has often raised an eyebrow. When I show them, I like to point out the bottle opener screwed to the wall, at the ready. The whole set-up is next to the weight set.

But there's no way to lock the fridge. There's no garage door to shield it from view.

I have often said I wouldn't begrudge someone in need of a beer. Men wouldn't begrudge their fellow a cold, refreshing beverage. But the golden rule of brew would apply: Serve unto others as you would like to be served yourself.

The party went on, of course. Everyone brought beer and we got to curse the thief, hoping he either got sick and puked, or his father caught him drunk.

Besides, the thief missed some really good stuff.

He left us the ribs.

Reach Mike Gordon at mgordon@honoluluadvertiser.com.