A Freshman Tale

“…bring shoes you plan on never wearing again.” Good advice goes best with good listeners. Too bad I’m not much of a listener.

As a freshman, I constantly looked for unforgettable experiences. Walking down Bourbon Street seemed like a good idea at the time. Pappy offered to take us. How could I refuse?

Our story begins at a gas station. Lamp had acquired a fake ID (Jim Haan’s I believe) and bought booze for those that wanted it. Each of us had a six pack and a 40 minute car ride to New Orleans. Naturally, a drinking race ensued. After 10 minutes, I got bored after finishing my six, so I taunted Lamp all the way to New Orleans.

We parked and began our pilgrimage towards the heathen capital. Katrina had recently ravaged the area and the destruction was still prevalent. Before coming upon any revelers, we found a pile of beads on the street. Free beads means free boobs. Our pack ravaged the beads, each taking as many as his neck could hold.

People filled Bourbon Street. Pushing seemed the best technique for getting through the throng. You just had to be careful. Pushing the wrong guy could result in an excursion to the hard pavement. As if walking in shit wasn’t bad enough. Luckily, a bunch of skinny ultimate kids fits through a crowd quite easily. Plus, nobody is gonna mess with a drunk Lamp.

Highlights of the night included: seeing Lamp do pushups in the filth, listening to born again Christians trying to convert people on the spot, listening to drunk people pour their hearts out to the born again Christians, seeing the police breakup a couple of fights, me getting more beads than anybody else.

Each year something happens on the ride back. Two years ago we got lost. Last year, a car burst into flames on the highway leaving a charred mess and a traffic jam. So if you go this year, beware, and bring shoes you plan on never wearing again.

Mardi Gras Preview

Mardi Gras has come early this year, hopefully bringing the illini an early gift of $2500 (might I now take the opportunity to remind you that winning this tourney guarantees us a flight to centex instead of driving). After much delay, it seems our tournament director has settled on the pools. Had he done so much earlier, this blog would have been done much sooner. I blame baton rouge ultimate for my lateness.

Well, we’re down a car and the ride is gonna be 12 hours of sitting in a shoebox with no airholes. Stretch before you get in and at every stop (that’s what she said). But seriously, waking up stiff after three hours of sleep and then having to play a full day of ultimate is no party.

Apparently our TD is too lazy to copy and paste the Sunday brackets onto the score reporter, so I have no idea what day two will look like, so you will have to be satisfied with just a day one preview. We play texas first. They’re a good team even if their coach always wears pajamas. Keeping Stevie (#22) in check will determine victory or loss. Shutting down their big swings will put the nail in the coffin. They run a 2 handler offense, which often starts out as one handler and a six man stack. Active and smart switches will punish this team.

Next we have Kevin Kelly and Kansas. Pavan will own this game. Kevin Kelly will cry and 15-5 is giving the Horizontals way too much credit.

We get a nice break in the third round. Providing us with a perfect opportunity to cheer on our B-team taking on Tenn. Hopefully the field will be close. The split between the two parks may put a wrench in our plans; however, a two mile jog is so worth it to sing Aerosmith. Boomland, you better not use all your timeouts before we get there. It’d be kind of weird to ask Tenn to call one for us to sing.

The second half of our day is filled with two Wisconsin schools. White-Water and then Milwaukee. You all know my feelings towards White-Water. They are a solid team; though, I vote we test that solidness by cracking a few skulls, but that’s just me. Be ready for the cup. This time, we don’t have Cole to bail us out.

I’ve never played Milwaukee. They’re ranked pretty much the same as us though. Let’s prove that they don’t even belong in the same sentence with us; even if that sentence goes, “Illinois slaughtered Milwaukee.”