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Pervious Captains Corners

10.19.2004

Well, here we are, back for the Octoberfest tournament. As the captain, I look at the faces of the players and try to see if this is going to be the year of victory or drunken defeat. And its hard to tell which I see.

Is there enough left in these old bones to once again muster up victory? Has the old wolves been overrun by the younger? Are we unable to hunt because our fangs have been worn down by time? Is it time to be removed from the pack to die alone? Why am I using these Nature Channel metaphors to describe our team?

Well Riverside, Remember this weekend is the reason that we work all year. This is why we put in the hard hours of training at the local bars. This is the reason that we have marital trauma and owe Skip legal fees that he will never collect. This is our chance to hit people we don?t know but hate anyway. This is our chance to drink until we have a reason for antisocial behavior. This is our weekend of delusion that we can still play a young mans game. Come on, how many old crusty men get this opportunity.

We are the soldiers waiting for Pickets charge across the field at Gettysburg. We know the cannons are pointed at us but charge nonetheless. Most of us will die in the initial volley. Men die in war. If we die, let?s do it with a rebel yell and the taste of southern whiskey in our mouth. (My apologies to you on the team who have sympathies with the northern aggressors)

Get your boots on boy, the enemy is before us. There will be blood tonight.

Lonnie M James III