Baseball, Rugby and a bit of Calypso
| Where to begin.
Well in the beginning I suppose. The trip was supposed to finalize my divorce with my wife. My wife was a great person. Is a great person. But in the end of our relationship, hell in the middle, she became quite vocal on the negative side of rugby. So after a pretty peaceful separation, we were gonna finalize the divorce. I had planned on heading out to Phoenix for the signing of papers. I was, as usual pretty emotional distraught. But I had rugby as a crutch. The Scottsdale Blues were hosting a rugby tourney that same weekend, and to boot, my good buddy from high school lives in AZ now and agreed to host me. About Aaron. Aaron was my quarterback in high school and rather a tough competitor. He was a shoe in for rugby. Then he got in an accident and is now in a wheel chair. He has moved on successfully in my eyes: married to a beautiful benevolent women, working on his career, and still a great friend. But I always wonder what would happen if he were shouting commands from the #9 position if the accident hadn't happened. I think he would have been an Eagle for sure. My trip would begin on Wednesday morning. As I approached the counter to check my luggage in (as usual over packed with jerseys I hoped to trade) the line was short, but the time was as well. I showed up late as usual. I got to the counter and the lady mentioned that their would be a delay. There was a problem with my reservation and I would need to wait for her to call. I sat there about 20 minutes when a group of police officers approached. They had their hands on their side arms and approached carefully. I sat their wondering what the deal was and if I was in danger. Turns out the danger was ME. The FBI had initiated an "alias random search" and John Thomas was the name they were randomly checking. Well I sat there, as they approached, dumbfounded when they told me to "step away from the counter with my hands up." They took my "papers" and I waited to be clearred. 20 minutes later (5 minutes before my flight) I was released and they rushed me on the flight. I got on board and was sitting next to a cute lady. She was sorta talkative early on and we sat and talked a bit. During the flight, I watched the movie, drank the 8 beers I smuggled on board and got a good buzz. One of the in flight entertainment packages was a short from CNN. The scene was something to do with turtles. I laughed out loud when I watched the scientists "brand (like a cow)" the turtle shell. The girl asked what I was laughing at, and I explained. We chatted a bit more and it turned out she was a lawyer from DC that was on her way to the Music Awards, the Grammys. Good for her. I was about to get divorced...the thought had still not really registered. I assured myself I would be there to have fun. I landed and my buddy picked me up and we were off to his house. We arrived and almost instantly headed out for the first spring training baseball game of the year. I have never been a big fan of baseball, but it was fun and I drank a few beers and looked at the pretty scantily dressed girls with pride. Later that night, I chatted with my soon to be ex-wife and we made plans for Thursday night. My friend in his wisdom planned a short field trip to his wife's "office." She worked at a local strip joint and I was to see several pretty girls and get a few lap dances from his wife's friends. The night was a success. I passed out watching some mockumentary about an Argentinan single handedly trying to take over the Falklands by breeding the English out. Strange movie. Thursday I sat around all day and did nothing. I chatted with IB #5, who had planned on coming down to DC to see us, and we talked about an upcoming week of fun. When it came for the x to call, she didn't....or so I thought. Turns out my buddies phone was online (the computer) at the time and I missed her call. I got her message an hour after she left it (45 minutes after she said she would be waiting for me at the restaurant. She was very upset when I called and as I tried to defend my behavior for nothing more than "me in an unlucky situation" she finally agreed to go back out and have dinner. We ate, discussed our past, and moved on. She dropped me off at 9 pm and I had my buddies wife drive me to the bar to meet up with the first night of the rugby tournament party. Scottsdale had played an Idaho squad in rugby that night (Thursday) and I figured there would be several ruggers there. I had $30 for the cab ride home, along with another $30 for fun that night. When I arrived, there were about 5 teams there. I wandered around for a few hours chatting a bit with random players, but in the end, I met up with the Rochester Aardvarks RFC. They were a bunch of good guys and they volunteered to drive me back home (they were staying a few blocks from my buddies.) The drive back was a mix of hedonistic behavior by several backs. The forwards, well in charge of their booze, sat back and laughed at their double digit friends. Every few minutes one of the backs would yell out, "who is that big guy?" I would reintroduce myself to them and then it would start all over again. I got home and passed out. I was late awaking for "practice" the next day at 11 am. The Aardvarks had invited me to play with them that weekend...and were having a short practice before the "scheduled" spring baseball game. I woke up a bit late and missed their departure to practice, but figured I would meet them at the baseball game. Once I got there, I didn't see their players, but did run into a PAC "to be" prop, Casey. We drank some beers and watched the game for a bit. His team, Sea Coast Rugby, had played "rookie rules" with this player a bit long and he had become offended. Oh now, come on, we have all been there....a bit pissed that the boys give them a hard amount of shit over the season. Anyways, I sat with Sea Coast. They didn't seem like a bad bunch of guys. At one point, one of their players found a FOX sports microphone (misplaced ) by their anchorman, and started interviewing random girls. Another of the players pretended to have a camera (invisible camera) and the laughter continued when the anchor and camera man came and found them and then interviewed one of the Pacific Island style skirt (lava lava) wearing Sea Coast players. Quite funny. I ended up heading downtown solo, looking for other ruggers. On the way, I ran into a bicycle carriage and asked the guy how much for a ride a few blocks. He said whatever I tipped was good enough, so I jumped on board. This poor guy didn't know what he got into. I might be 320 pounds, but I don't look it. So there we have this poor biker guy trying to lug my ass 10 blocks. I got off near some bars and headed in. I found one patio bar and started calling my boys back home.....to brag about the fine weather. I left that bar and found another. I talked to Super Boy (IB#11) for a long while and found myself sitting in the Rugby check point. This small, and I do stress small, country bar was empty when I arrived. I ordered a beer with my final $20 and relaxed. I wrote a bit in my journal and dealt with my growing depression regarding being divorced. Leave it to country music to reinforce that feeling. But in no time at all, I had rebounded. Rugby players started to arrive and I was being recruited by several guys. A few teams in particular chatted me up nicely. Old Pueblo RFC was one of them. I met a pair of brothers that were locks. They told me about this great speech from a Few Good Men, that had been changed to Rugby and props. They told me that one of their teammates had written that story. I asked to meet this literary genius. As this prop approached, I asked about this "prop's testimony" that he was so proud of. He stumbled through a few of the lines, and I took over for him at that point. I told the boys the lines, word for word......and the brothers asked how I knew it. I simply said, "because I wrote it myself 5 years ago." The other prop denied the plagerism and said he never said he wrote it, but rather he read it somewhere. Either way, I was on fire. Then the money ran out. I called my buddy AJ and he came to get me, with all my stuff in his truck and we drove up to the tourney. It was being held in a small town north of Phoenix. AJ and I talked and I thanked him for being such a hospitable host. I had arranged to stay with the Fallen Angels Rugby team ( Sara and Chris from Maggotfest ). When I arrived at the motel, I found a note telling Chris and Sara to go upstairs to the rooms. I walked up, knocked on the door and found 3 young lovely girls staring back at me. I asked if Chris or Sara were there. They said no. I asked if they knew about a guy named Montana staying with them. They said no. I introduced myself and said, "I am Montana, I am staying with you guys." They welcomed me with open arms and one cute blonde walked down to help me carry my stuff upstairs. I waved to my buddy as he departed and walked back up to the room. The girls, as I would get to know them, would receive nick names, because striaght forward, I couldn't even try to remember their names. I was half in the bag by the time I had gotten there. Spunky, the cute blonde, is actually Marie. Sweetest girl I have ever met. She was telling me she was a prop, but hooker is her position of choice. I called her Spunky after she almost pushed me off my chair. I was doing that school boy flirtation thing where you push a girl...and she pushes you back.....really mature, but then again, who cares. Well she came back and gave me a shove about onto my ass, letting me know she was, at the very least, playful. Band Camp, or Libby, was another hooker. She was a cute girl. I called her band camp because she had SOOOOOO many stories.....but best of all, she would end each phrase (not sentence) with a drammatic pause....sorta like the girl on American pie. "I have this friend............(waiting to insert 'at bandcamp')." So anyways, she was a hoot. Although her green environmental stance was not so enjoyable. Gotta hate the old enviros. Good girl though. The third girl was Corinna. Sadly, I simply remembered Corinna's name. No idea why. I later would call her McGyver, for no other reason than she had played 7 positions in one game. She was quiet, but interested. She was very pretty as well. As far as lady ruggers go, this team already had 5 hotties, and all of them were in the PACK. So we sat, I offered them beers and we drank, and told stories. I let them in on my most recent odyssey to Scottsdale and my ex-wife. We soon were joined by a handful of others that arrived, including Sara and Chris. They gave me a huge hug and we talked about the next day. The entire time, I was sorta looking at Spunky, trying to weigh her actual interest in me. The girls were trying to go to bed, so I found it necessary to go to my bedroll...at the foot of Spunky's bed. I tickled Spunky's foot once I layed down and she sorta played back. We soon were laying together on the floor.
So I wake up in the morning, feeling rather strange, after sleeping in a room with 7 women, hooking up with one of them during that time. The girls pretty much overlooked the bahavior and it was life as usual. We cleaned up our stuff, I showered and made my way to Spunky's car, where I squeezed into the backseat. I felt a bit strange also, with the Friday night hook up. The legend has it, the front row player that finds his hook up on Friday, not Saturday, is doomed to spend the second night sober and without a girl. The Friday night hook up has supposedly threatened the front row for decades. Some have escaped it tyranous grips. I would not venture to guess where my night would lead me, but my Friday night hook up was a nice way to reenter the single population. I had a couple beers in the frigid Arizona weather. Yes it was frigid. Windy and cold. Strange. The day before it was a nice 75 degree day. Saturday it was 50 with 30 mph winds. It was quite annoying. I found the clubs that recruited me, but they all of a sudden had enough players. I got lucky when the Sin City Irish needed players and whored 2 matches with them. The first game I played very well, possibly my best game of my life. The 2nd match was a good match as well. Between games I chatted with Casey, the prop from the Friday prior, and to Spunky and other Fallen Angels. I watched their matches and Spunky played very well. Band Camp, however, did not play. The Fallen Angels had brought a trampoline to the field and she, in a Jaegermeister stupor, twisted her ankle bouncing on said trampoline. The Fallen Angels turned out to be a very good side and they swept their opponents. After the matches, the girls were to stay at the pitch in tents. It had dropped well below freezing by this point and I felt bad for them. I had mentioned to Spunky that Corinna and her could crash at my buddies pad in Phoenix if they could give me a ride back. (I was a bit desperate...my flight was at 10 am the next day.) They agreed and we went to the party planning on driving 40 miles south to Phoenix. I gave my buddy a call to make sure it was okay and left a message. At the party, which would have been fantastic if it were warm, they had us hosted outside. I had a few beers and sat freezing. I chatted with Spunky and Corrina a bit and Casey spent time with another one of the Fallen Angels trying his luck with her. He was also trying to find a ride back to Phoenix for his upcoming flight. One of the girls agreed to give him a ride the next morning. This presented a small problem for me. I now had a "ride" back the next day. I, however, was not looking forward to the sleeping in the cold and it became clear that Corinna and Spunky both would rather sleep in doors than in the frigid cold. There were several clubs at the party having a very good time considering
the conditions. One group of players dressed as Mormon missionaries.
They all wore short sleeve dress shirts and blue slacks...with clip
on ties. They carried their Book of Mormon and drank beer (I watched
out for lightning strikes) and danced with the Fallen Angels. The angels
had dressed as TEAM MULLET...and each wore a mullet wig and white wife beater
tshirts. They were horrible looking, but that was the point. The
Sin City Irish dressed as Elvis'. The Better Side, a woman's team from
Montana, dressed in American Flags and the costumes continued through
out the night. I was simply wearing my kilt.....and my USSR apparrel.
At one point I had my Soviet Flag around my waste (like the Montana
girls) in Kilt fashion. I ran into the Rochester boys and they were
huddled around a fire keeping warm. They left early to head back to
Phoenix for the bar scene. After the Naked beer slides (DAMN CAMERA RAN OUT OF FILM BEFORE) several hotties slid right into my feet naked and quite cold. When the beer ran out, along with the naked slides, I checked with the girls about departure and they were ready to roll. During the drive back to Phoenix, Spunky and I chatted while Corrine slept. We arrived at my mates and his wife didn't feel comfortable about housing 2 strangers, so I volunteered to get a hotel to avoid the situation. My buddy apologized and I told him not to worry. He agreed to give me a ride the next day and with that, Spunky, Corrine and I went to find a hotel in the area. During my trip to Fresno and Seattle, I had a layover in Phoenix, which I had hoped to spend that time resolving my marital differences. My wife however, after meeting me at the hotel, let me know that she was ready for the divorce and that it was the best thing for both of us. That hotel turned out to be the closest hotel to AJ's house and as luck would have it, we ended up in the same room. Strange. Mamoo was looking out for me again. The night went without incident. Spunky and I slept together and Corinna was in the next bed over. The next day the girls would drop me off at Aaron's house and I would bid them a farewell and I headed off for the airport. When I arrived, I was running quite late and got to the check in with 30 minutes to spare. Then the lady said, "I am sorry, there is a problem with your reservation, I need to call it in." I knew what would come next and suddenly there was 2 police officers asking me for my papers. Same alias situation. Crazy. Much thanks to the Old Pueblo boys, Sin City Irish, Rochester boys, Albuquerque Aardvarks, and the Scottsdale Blues for a great weekend. But special thanks to the Fallen Angels for their hospitality for sharing their hotel room and for being such great ruggers.
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