With the League Nite Out upon us tonight, this brings me to not only reminisce about past unforgettable moments from prior Niteís, but by studying them, I can make eerily accurate predictions about tonightís happenings.
First off, to get you fellow partiers in the mode, let us take a trip down memory lane where we can re-visit some great moments in time, as well as to throw me and everyone else who has made a fool of themselves under the proverbial bus. The first League Nite Out, I was not in attendance due to be grounded for not putting my toys away at the mature age of 18. However, the Commish and about 8 other CRFC legends held it down. Itís always a great sign when the tail end of the night has you ending up in Chinatown.
The next league night out at Brother Jimmyís in Harvard Sq., one of our departed brotherís Dave McGuiness, the Blowfish, AKA the ìObserverî (at least in my opinion), takes home the inaugural Most Wasted Award, along with then room mate, the Wolverine. No one knew it then, but the Blowfish and the Wolverine set the trend that most people aspire to, now at the League Nite Out. The MWA has become the more coveted than an Oscar.
Finally, I get a fake I.D. and attend The Sports Grille at the ripe age of 19. The night ends with me and Levan Marman getting hit on by some women at the Tap. I make a rookie mistake however, and left Levan without a wingman. I know what everyone is thinking, you never leave a man without a wingman, but I claimed ignorance. At about 1:30am, I know that my beer goggles are in full effect and Iím looking for a way to escape the dance floor grindings of the female clutching my backside. I debate calling in a bomb threat, but the music is too loud. So I do what any spineless, drunk, 19 year old would do and told her I had to go to the bathroom. As soon as I get a couple steps away, she turns her back and I make a break for the door. If I had that speed on the court, Iíd be faster than Rip. Once outside, I dove into a cab, ignoring Levanís constant phone calls and queries as to where I was. Crisis averted for me, but since I didnít hop on the grenade for Levan, his ìcounterpartî was dragged away, leaving him to go home with Mary Palm.
Hurricane OíReillyís was the next stop and everyone got to witness a CRFC instant classic when a female asked Diesel, ìHow much can you bench?î Immediately, he replies, ìWhat do you drive?î Doesnít get better than that. As mentioned in the Wolverineís blog, the staff got to see the alter egos of those we thought we knew. Derek Brown was not one of the nicest guys at the gym, but THE NICEST! After a few drinks I thought I was standing next to Richard Prior and not Wayne Brady. He was the first of many alter personalities that have been sighted.
My 21st birthday was an unofficial league night out at Tequila Rain. Wish I could write more, but there are a couple scenes missing from my film on that night. The one thing I do know is that if you attended, you bought me a drink. Thank you. Unfortunately, all those drinks wound up on the bathroom floor and in the second stall from the right around 12:30am.
Flash forward to the first party at Tonic two years ago. Man, the last time people saw that many Irish Car Bombs was when the British invaded Northern Ireland. Everyone was in rare form. I remember Dirty passing his chain along for everyone to wear, making me, in particular, feel like Lilí John for a brief moment. After the party, Jrod had to literally pick up the Sergen off his apartment floor!
Oh, but the last party at the Greatest Bar, put the CRFC staff to shame. The Wolverine couldnít stop promoting his spinning class, which lasted for about two weeks before he retired. Tibbs had to be carried off like Kellan Winslow I, by Jay Sar and Tara and wound up passing on Walter H. Crapperís 17th century porcelain invention. Oh, but I canít let myself off the hook that easily as I proceeded to keep up my Cal Ripken like streak of consecutive pukings at League Parties with lucky number 5. And what makes friends friends? After puking and passing out, getting the male anatomy drawn all over your face and having your boys take pictures of it. Thatís classy.
But enough about the League Niteís of past. I could write a weekly blog about highlights from all the Nites. We need to focus on making tonight the greatest one yet to come. However, I look forward to knowing what is to come. It is said that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat their mistakes. Fortunately, for entertainment purposes, no one at CRFC adheres to those words of wisdom. Therefore, it makes it that much easier to make some feasible predictions about what is to expect based on the past nights, especially for those who are getting the League Nite Out cherry popped:
1. The MixTape will have a sore neck playing pick up on Saturday morning pick up because Steph will have him on the couch when attempts to make a jail-break from their plans so he can throw down a few with the CRFC boys.
2. No matter how hard I try not to get so drunk where I end up taking the magic carpet home, I know that there will be someone, like always, that takes pride in drinking me under the table to the point where I wake up next to my inflatable G.I. Jane doll and wonder, ìOh, no. Not again,î as I realize itís really inflatable G.I. Joe. I end up spending my next two days explaining why Iím walking funny. Everyone always asks me, ìHow many times can a guy ëfallí off his bed.î
3. If you light a match in the vicinity of Tibbís, you will burn Tonic down with all the vodka on his breath. Please, if you must smoke, be standing at least 100 yards up wind of Tibbs.
4. You always talk to someone that you have never talked to before. Then, come Sunday or Monday when you see the person, there is a brief awkwardness between the two people like you hooked up or something. Itís strange, but Iíll be taking stats and someone will come up to me and ask for someoneís name standing down the balcony b/c they were so drunk, they forgot who they were talking too. Once you bond at the League Nite Out, you are in, donít succumb to that next day awkwardness.
5. There are always people in the pictures that no one can recognize. The next day, people will be looking at pictures from tonight and say, ìOh, I thought he/she was with you?î Jumping in random photos was my favorite past times in college, but to do that at the League Party has become a tradition and expected.
6. Someone always talks to a staff member about how we screwed you in some way. Whether it be, you didnít give me a call, or you missed my rebound three Thursdays ago and I had to call in sick from work I was so upset. I can definitely see Al coming up to me to talk about his scoring average and Trevor about my refereeing. With alcohol, the gloves come off and I am already mentally prepared for the verbal lashings. I just hope Freddy and Ian havenít been planning a little revenge for the Wolverine after the last time we had drinks at 99.
7. There will come a point in the night, where I will find myself holding up one of the four walls in Tonic. Itís science.
8. There will be someoneís significant other that canít wait to get out of there. Every guy knows this look. The constant checking of the watch, the fake smiles, the constant condescending glances, weíve all seen this. For some odd reason, women donít get the attractiveness of write ups, awards, and stats. Have you no class women!?! The best way to overcome this is to get her as drunk as possible. Ticalís advice: Add some tequila to her glass of wine. What could possibly go wrong with that?
9. Someone will elevate their status to CRFC icon with their antics at the party. Either notoriously or hilariously there is always a virtually unknown personality who captures all the headlines after. This niteís front runner is my man John Smith, the Alias. Heís been slowly been emerging as one of CRFCís newest personalities and I see him with a lampshade over his head, with an untucked tuxedo. Make it happen, John.
10. Finally, my last prediction is that everyone is going to have the time of their life, because, honestly, itís always a great time. The history speaks for itself. Everyone who has attended a League party still talks about it to this day. The friends you make and the memories are priceless, despite my thoughts that the nicer I am to people the League Nite Out, the easier they will be on me when I ref. Big mistake on my part, but that just comes with being a naÔve dreamer. As always, drink responsibly and have a great time. I know everyone will tell me Saturday how much fun I had! See you all tonight.