One Of Our Submarines

Today was a pretty cool day. My sons band played at the school talent show. I finally got to see Lil W.B. lay down some sick beats. He has barred me from all the previous performances based on a nervous disorder he claims I cause in him. He needed me and I could help him, which is all a Father wants. The guys played great and didn't win, continuing a family tradition for another generation. My first band lost under similar circumstances almost exactly thirty years prior. I explained to him that the Irish were put on earth to suffer, and this did not help.

The crew made a huge bid for me to attend this weekends festivities at Bump and Grind in Birmingham. They mixed just the right amount of humor, abuse, and crew love, but sadly I have to (for the first time ever) err on the discretion side of valor. Once again beer will be the spackle that hides the rough spots. I plan to stay in various states of inebriation (like sleeping on a long car trip) in the hopes of getting to Monday with a minimum of wailing and gnashing of teeth.

I rode with the boys tonight, so they knew I wished them well, and that I hope to keep my seat in the back of the Bike Chain bus. Kick ass boys! Bring me back the heads of our enemies and the gold of a battle well fought and won.

Slade, if you are not top five, we will never speak your name aloud again.

Silk,...dear God! Win for the love of ALLA!

Worm, this is your race. Please run tubes and try not to throw up, crash, or break a chain.

Frog Legs, don't leave nothing on the table, forget the Garmin and go all Wakulla on those mofo's.

Berg, (Yawn) will win, and act like he had a tough time....ya right.

Derwood, will be on a fixed gear recumbent and will kill (even though he hardly rides) in retribution, the crew will hardly acknowledge his existence, and deny him the praise he so desperately wants. The universe will remain in balance for another race.

Lil Ball, please finish and finish well. If you falter again and D.N.F., I fear Big Ball may never drive you to another race.

Red Dragon, you need to at least not be in a skirt, and if you can, seriously take it to 007.

007, if you let your Bro pass you it is your duty to commit harry carry. That's right! I spelled it wrong, because that's how it sounds and that's good enough for anybody from "will kill ya".
Mingo, please catch Dragon, your status is already in jeopardy because I passed you Monday, and no one cares about the time you kicked ass in clogs and a flannel shirt (back in the day). Its the end of the movie and we all need the slow clap. Don't let us, or your son down.

Shanks, just do what you do man. The quiet guy on the box. Ho Hum another race another medal. That's what we dig about you man.

Spanish Mackerel, this is your time Bro. I would have probably done the race if I didn't fear you so much. I am going to bide my time until you are in a relationship, pasty and rotund, before I launch my sneak attack.

If I forgot anyone, please forgive me, the drinking has started and you are probably not important enough for me to recognize. Dude chill, it's the Corona talking. All the best. BCFL!!!

I am already having a tough time with this. I will miss you guys this weekend!

W.B.Z.N.