The back story: Arrow happily dominates Hickory’s Wednesday AO spot. We always have, always will. Everywhere the light touches is our kingdom. There are evil-doers lurking in our midst. Those that want to steal the Wed. thunder from Arrow. Lo, there is a spot, at the bottom of a hill, where the light does not reach. They call this place… JAYCEE PARK. I cringe, even thinking about it. Jaycee park is notorious for attracting strong armed, barrel chested, chicken legged folk. Not the type you’d want to meet in a dark alley. They have one weakness(let’s be honest, they have tons), you can swipe their legs out from under them very easily because they’re so top heavy.
Here’s what happened(in my head)
Time: 21:00 hours, Tuesday, 18JUL2017 – Top Secrete message from Arrow Commander reads as follows: Men, The time has come. Cuz is encroaching on our turf. It’s time we take Wednesday back, for good. We depart our AO at 0505, Wednesday, 19JUL2017.
8 Men answer the call. We begin our treacherous 3 mile journey descending into the darkness of Jaycee Park- AKA Organ Grinder. As we travel, I notice, esprit de corps is rather high. knowing that some may not return to their wives and children, I am proud of the men.
Then, out of now where, we meet with an unruly mob. You can tell these top heavy men where bad hombres, however, as far as hombres go… we’re worse.
With shovel flag and musket in hand, we charge into a fierce battle of hand to hand combat. There is a whirlwind, a tornado, if you will of flags, kettle bells, 45lb plates, gloves, shovels, an F3 buff, shoes and other typical F3 debris. In the eye of the storm, Cousin Eddie’s and My eyes meet, not like that, not in a weird way but in a way that we know, only one of us will emerge. Then, very unlike an OGer, Cuz starts running!
We begin a Last of the Mohicans type chase through the vast forest, I’m on his tail but blocked by his hooligans. We emerge in a clearing… and just then, out of the dark, a radiant beam of light descends on us from the heavens. Out of the light appears an angel! no, a leprechaun! No, twas Igloo. He casually says to us: “hey guys, it’s 6:15, lets wrap this up.”
We shake hands, sign the Wednesday AO treaty, agree to our differences and part ways.
In the end, only two were able to limp home. Some were carted home by OGers, a sign of good will and good things to come.
We live to fight another day. Maybe we can co-exist.
Some gave all, all gave some.