I just found your blog and totally crapped my pants laughing. You dorks are still dorks? I remember you in middle school, crammed over your chessboards in Mr Leising’s room like a bunch of OCD hunchbacks. F’in hilarious then and F’in hilarious now. Only sadder. I’m going to forward this and especially this to all my buddies. What are you idiots even talking about?
34 years ago me and my buddies lifted the Kentucky state championship football trophy. Remember that? You were probably there because they let the band goons in for free. Can you even imagine what that’s like, smashing people up, making the other team cry? Working all year and being the last team standing, like a band of brothers? Do you even lift!?
They can never take that memory away from us. Meanwhile, you’re still trying to make some sad made-up chess number three decades later. No wonder you’re such a pathetic negative loser! Give it up loser!
– Phil in Ft Thomas
I’m not sure why you think anybody is trying to “take that memory” from you, but if that makes it more precious, knock yourself out.
Actually I remember 1981 pretty well: Elizabethtown in the rain, with the goal-line squirt-fumble. I don’t remember 1982 (Franklin-Simpson) for some reason, but it’s all there in the history books and sites.
No I don’t lift. But that was probably rhetorical.
As to your broader theme… It’s a fair question. Why did Sisyphus keep pushing that rock? He probably got pretty crabby too, after a while.
Obstinance? As you say, OCD? A strange self-defined sense of valor?
All i can tell you, Phil, is this: Your championships will live forever, more or less, and that’s fantastic. But maybe there’s something about the struggle now that feels more alive than reminiscing over the history books, with your cleats hanging on the wall for good?
I’ve probably given you the wrong impression. I’m only crabby about the details. It’s still a lovely game.
Still full of surprises.
Even now, when the clock seems to tick a little faster.