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Pervious Captains Corners
07.05.2005
Riverside - It's Summer.
Nine beers gone, three to go. . .
The demons are back in hell and it's time to write.
Riverside, it's summer. It's time to lick your
wounds, lie about getting in shape, drink too much,
and reflect on our years past glories before the grim
reaper carries us away. This is the first summer, in
a long time, that we can say that we have won more
than we have lost. Even COASL has had to eat crow and
let us represent OKC soccer. Let others fear
relegation, we are moving up. Management is proud.
God is in the heavens and Riverside is once again
hated. In-fighting is down. Fouls are up. Sideline
drama is down. Goals are up. Cards for mouthing are
down. Age is up. Arrests are down. Political
incorrectness is up. Skip falls down, Skip gets up,
(no beer spilled) Consumption is even. I sit here,
drinking from a victory mug and wish it to be the
skull of a midfielder from Tulsa's Hot Tuna. I scan
the victory pelts on the wall and adorn my lance with
the scalps of the defeated. We haven't had so many
enemies since we wore orange. We all know this is the
color of Halloween homosexuals and OSU fans. . . Wait,
isn't that redundant.
Now is the time for the captains choices for the year:
(Sorry Ginger, Scuba, and Kelly, there is an age limit
to this group, just like the rides at the carnival)
Best fan:
We have had great support from friends family and
significant others all year. It warms the sub-cockles
of heart to see the rabid fans whip themselves into a
frenzy like cannibalistic jackals watching us play
what sometimes resembles soccer. All our true fans are
great. In all weather they bring beer, voice, and
sarcasm. For me, you gotta go with Blue. How sad must
anyone be who still supports a team where his brother
no longer plays. Blue your job for next season, if
you choose to accept it, is to get thrown out of a
game from the sidelines just so you can get a mention
in a official match report.
Most Dedicated Riversider:
Blinky beats out Pink for coming to a tournament with
a newborn at home. I'm of the belief that he snuck
out in the middle of the night with the "I'm going to
get milk" excuse. Scuba should receive this for
driving in for all matches, you know, hair loss.
It must be a game because I'm bleeding:
Craig Bell-Lets just call him Mr. Excitement. Slide
tackles, glasses flying, goal scoring (usually against
us) everything you would want in a soccer player with
serious disaster in his future. Watching Craig is
like watching the NASCAR driver that likes to pass too
close to the wall.
Best Offensive player:
Ben--This is the double entrendra award. Not only is
he a goal scorer but also most likely to use a racial
slur on the opposition. I was so hoping for him to go
professional wrestling on someone. The king of the
threatening understatement We like him. Ben, you
have now been promoted to Second Lieutenant with oak
leaf cluster. Good gene pool usage Ted.
Best hitter:
Ron wins out over Puffy because some of Der
Puffmeisters biggest whacks didn't seem to fit in the
flow of a soccer match. (Now, I'm not saying there is
anything wrong with that) I like anyone who goes
cleats up in opposing fans. Even if they are in the
second trimester, they should keep their big mouths
shut. Ron wins out for his unerring carnage and
dedication to the dark side. Keep up the sheep and
twelve year old virgin sacrifices. Gil, if you would
have hit the bleachers in Dallas, you could have won
two awards.
"No one steps on a Riversider in my town" award:
Bullethead, easy pick. There is a general good
feeling of "I got your back" on Riverside but with
Chris it has been taken to an art form. Chris with
his hackles up is like one of those smart bombs going
in a rag heads window. Cross hairs on, zero
distortion. When the head veins a poppin' don't come
knockin'.
Get out of jail free card:
We all know who needs this most
Outstanding player:
This goes to Kevin. Always there, plays hard, drinks
like a fish. Doesn't bitch when asked to play
anywhere. Kev, I think this is one of the best spans
of soccer you've had in a long time.
Team most like Riverside:
Liverpool, they win when it counts. (you knew I'd put
the boys in red somewhere in here)
Lord of all:
Our most sacred being and bringer of life--Skip
Enough with the mutual admiration society crap.
We may believe that the lull that we hear is that of a
kinder gentler time. We have beaten the wolves from
the door and are safe. Don't be fooled. They are
sitting in wait and growing stronger , hoping to swoop
in and steal our government cheese. They are cowards
and whine like little girls. They want our bacon and
will stab us in the back as soon as they get a chance.
They throw bricks through windows in the middle of
the night and then crawl back under the rocks where
they live. Their time has come. They have been
selected against.
The Riverside fire has been fed and I fear for all those
who believe that they have a chance against us. Time
to howl at the moon. Our ears are pinned back and the
sulfurous flames of hell that follow behind are ready
to consume all that stand in our way. Those dumb
bastards have no idea what we have in store for them.
They will be no more than ashen memories forgotten by
even their own mothers.
There are those who are waiting to see us fall. I
have seen the look on the faces of those who were once
with us turn and cheer for others. It reminds me of a
picture from a civil war history book. It was a shot
of a bunch of confederate camp followers after the
battle of Gettysburg. They were dirty, used, and
toothless. Let the Hoopers have the throw-aways. The
meek shall inherit the earth. (right after we are
through with it) They better start saving their money
for the keg that they are going to have to buy. We
have found our new whipping boys.
So Riverside, be careful what you touch. If you break
it, you buy it. We are the alpha males and should not
water down the gene pool. The true fans are those who
were with us through the lean years and pay for their
own beer. They may smell but they are still
Riverside souls. We fight for them, for they are us.
Everyone else is the enemy even if they try to be
kind. Kill the weak and eat their flesh.
Let us not sit on our laurels and believe that this
good fortune will last. Luck is a cruel mistress and
I have been divorced from three. The leaders are
always looking to the future and the Rubicon has been
crossed. Management is in talks over all players.
Those who lag behind, get left behind. Skills and
commitment are being weighed. Those who have shown a
lack of dedication and timekeeping have been measured.
Those who have showed for games too hung over to
play, have been found wanting. (I know of where I
speak)
Management has a wandering eye. They are always in
the market for a prettier, newer, faster model. Even
though we love them and have given them the best years
of our lives. Why shouldn't they. What other team has
people driving in to play for them. The waiting list
for Riverside is long. The resume pile is getting
taller. Players are willing to bring beer. Everyone
with a shred of skill and low morals wants to defect.
I'm a close friend of management and get to set in on
some of the closed door sessions. These are some of
the most immoral deviants who have ever slimed the
face of the planet. All they care about is their own
self propagation and players be damned. Watch your
backs and keep your guns handy.
Even I wonder if I can lace the boots for another year
and drag my carcass around the pitch. And, if I can,
will it be good enough to represent all that is
Riverside. Let's just say this, if someone wants my
spot, I'll do what any respectable Riversider would do
in that situation. I'd step back. Look into my soul
and at what I have to bring to the table. Check my
fitness. Pray to the Fates of soccer. Stand eye to
eye with the person who wants to take my spot. Then
break his leg.
I can't wait for fall.
A case of beer for the first real slide tackle.
With a tear in my eye
Lonnie M James III
Gaffer
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