Monthly Archives: September 2005

hands of steel

so back in the day, i used to read some kung-fu magazines. i was a green belt in the country club’s taek-won-do club, at 12 we were badass. anyways, in the back of the king-fu magazines, they used to advertise these little gadgets that were supposedly used for improving your finger strength by exercising them in ways traditional methods couldn’t match for that supposed ‘kung fu grip’. I never got one of those doo-hickey’s, instead I had to rely on a plastic&metal combination wrist grip thing that I used religiously from when I was 12 to 15. [Which totally affected my awesome Nintendo skillz, but that is unrelated to the topic.]

Fast forward to 1999. There is a bus, and one of my older brothers is leaving to join the Navy after graduating college. This is the start of the clothes ripping when every guy on the double decker bus is shirtless and covered in beer.

Fast forward again to 2002. A friend of a friend’s 27th birthday, got a bus to Santa Monica from the South Bay. My brother, the same one who went into the Navy, is visiting and there is a keg on this bus, but it is not an open aired double decker bus. Too bad, the shirts rip and beer is everywhere again. It looked like it was raining outside, except there was no rain; it was beer on the inside. When A was cleaning up the beer when we got back with Turtle’s nice unripped shirt (which he voluntarily took off and threw on the groud) he was plenty pissed. That’s all I rememeber about that.

Needless to say, these events (along with others that I either can’t remember or just forget) have founded the basis of an uncurable need to throw water or dump beer on people and/or rip thier shirts off with the kung-fu grip developed as a child. That is why, elar and little jeffrey, the pants came off outside shellback’s. And also, jfulk why the shirt came off and the tie got thrown on the roof.

It is the traditions that makes events like these worthwhile and exciting (and talked about). Hopefully, as we get older we will calm down…

Below the Hard Deck

So this weekend on Saturday, I will be playing in the Annual Top Gun Volleyball Tournament down in Neuport Beach (is it ‘Neuport’ or ‘Newport’? does it matter?). I know that shennanigan’s will ensue, either at the tourney or at the “Officer’s Party” afterwards.

I’ll update this post this weekend with the outcome, hopefully the pattern won’t be full and there will be points for second place.

Update: Our team, ‘Trough Gun’ went 0-4. The level of competition has escalated in the past years; the Maverick division 6-man teams (of which we were 1 of 14) had various levels of sportsmanship (i.e. inverse ratio of drinking ability to seriousness) and teamwork (i.e. multiple blockers, short sets, outsite calls, back sets, and various other indoor club team abilities). Our team, wrapped only in our towels (with our dog tags!) and talking about the hard-deck on our gym bench (from ikea) did hit the booze early, and retired to the showers before the playoffs because of the four of us, only two played college volleyball. I guess you needed all six. The rally scoring to 17 wasn’t helping either: games lasted about 8 minutes each.

Highlights tho when we threw our dogtags into the ocean to remind ourselves about our
fallen comrades, and how things could have been different if we weren’t projected into a flat spin on takeoff.

The surf was good though even with the sticky redtide.