scrumluva
08-20-2004, 09:17 AM
I thought that in the spirit of a new season, I'd copy Dale Linvilles account of how the Kelts were started - this story is posted in the "history" section, however many people skip right to the message board and miss these important contributions...
<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width=792 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD></TR><TR><TD height=15></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD vAlign=top></TD><TD></TD><TD>Have you ever wondered what happened to the 28 men who formed the Kelts in the first season of 1994?
Five members were trapped at the bottom of a ruck by
the Wolfhounds and were stomped to death as traitors. Three had their refrigerators sacked and their beer taken. Two had their nut sacks punched in a game against Queen City. Yet another, Doug Beckmeyer, was savagely punched in a line out against Scioto Valley.
All 28 of these brave men suffered severe hangovers in that revolutionary first season. They all pledged their lives, their livers, and their dues for one season. What kind of men were they? Well, they mostly were a bunch of malcontent degenerates.
Only a couple held jobs, with most of them being on welfare or living at home with their mothers. But they joined together to form the Kelts knowing full well that the penalty would be an upside down beer chug if they were ever caught in Yesterdays.
Pat MacNamera, the first social chairman, quietly had a word with President Mike Brown upon seeing that an after match party was starting to die, he encouraged Mike to start a game of naked scrumhalf bowling, knowing full well that his apartment would be destroyed, and MacNamera was evicted.
Tom Stevens (not his real name for obvious reasons), sacrificed his self by continually hitting on and sleeping with the "ugly friend of the pretty one" all season, there by allowing his team mates to score unencumbered.
Sean Boshampers (not his real name, again for obvious reasons, no really), wrecked two bars, his liver, a few relationships, and was thrown in jail. All in the name of good times with the Kelts. Good times indeed.
Such were the stories and sacrifices of the rugby revolution. They were wild-eyed, rabble-rousing ruffians. They were loud mouthed men of means by no means, they were kings of the road. They had security of the Hounds B side, but valued A side more. Or at least the chance to play A side. Standing in Hap's, slightly hunched over, and holding the bar for support, they pledged:
For the good of this team, with firm reliance on somebody else to do the job, we mutually pledge to each other, to make at least one practice a week, pay most of our dues, and not to cock block our fellow teammates.
The history books don't tell a lot about what happened that first season, thank God. But remember, we didn't just fight the Wolfhounds, we were Wolfhounds.
So take a few moments when your enjoying beer after the game to remember those who came before you and sacrificed so much. And remember, beer is never free. So when the other team is paying, drink as much as you can.
-As told by Dale Linville
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<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width=792 border=0><TBODY><TR><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD></TR><TR><TD height=15></TD><TD></TD><TD></TD><TD vAlign=top></TD><TD></TD><TD>Have you ever wondered what happened to the 28 men who formed the Kelts in the first season of 1994?
Five members were trapped at the bottom of a ruck by
the Wolfhounds and were stomped to death as traitors. Three had their refrigerators sacked and their beer taken. Two had their nut sacks punched in a game against Queen City. Yet another, Doug Beckmeyer, was savagely punched in a line out against Scioto Valley.
All 28 of these brave men suffered severe hangovers in that revolutionary first season. They all pledged their lives, their livers, and their dues for one season. What kind of men were they? Well, they mostly were a bunch of malcontent degenerates.
Only a couple held jobs, with most of them being on welfare or living at home with their mothers. But they joined together to form the Kelts knowing full well that the penalty would be an upside down beer chug if they were ever caught in Yesterdays.
Pat MacNamera, the first social chairman, quietly had a word with President Mike Brown upon seeing that an after match party was starting to die, he encouraged Mike to start a game of naked scrumhalf bowling, knowing full well that his apartment would be destroyed, and MacNamera was evicted.
Tom Stevens (not his real name for obvious reasons), sacrificed his self by continually hitting on and sleeping with the "ugly friend of the pretty one" all season, there by allowing his team mates to score unencumbered.
Sean Boshampers (not his real name, again for obvious reasons, no really), wrecked two bars, his liver, a few relationships, and was thrown in jail. All in the name of good times with the Kelts. Good times indeed.
Such were the stories and sacrifices of the rugby revolution. They were wild-eyed, rabble-rousing ruffians. They were loud mouthed men of means by no means, they were kings of the road. They had security of the Hounds B side, but valued A side more. Or at least the chance to play A side. Standing in Hap's, slightly hunched over, and holding the bar for support, they pledged:
For the good of this team, with firm reliance on somebody else to do the job, we mutually pledge to each other, to make at least one practice a week, pay most of our dues, and not to cock block our fellow teammates.
The history books don't tell a lot about what happened that first season, thank God. But remember, we didn't just fight the Wolfhounds, we were Wolfhounds.
So take a few moments when your enjoying beer after the game to remember those who came before you and sacrificed so much. And remember, beer is never free. So when the other team is paying, drink as much as you can.
-As told by Dale Linville
</TD><TD vAlign=top colSpan=7 rowSpan=12>
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