Nordeast Minneapolis, MN - A typical sports banquet takes place at a great hall or the
American Legion. All the players show up and awkwardly introduce you to their
parents. Last week invitations were sent out for all Category 6 racers to come
celebrate the end of our second season and the quadrupaling of our membership by
toasting some of Scott's adult beverages while ingesting some of Scott's gently
seared cow. Sounds like a fantastic plan. I would wear my polo shirt and put gel in
my hair.
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Copyright Category 6 Racing Squad unless otherwise noted.
Sold Out Category 6 Banquet Devourers Beer
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The Banquet >
*ring ring*
"Hello?"
"Hey Mom, it's me. What's going on"
"Well the damn dog threw up today, you know how she gets... I think the stupid
neighbor's been giving her treats again."
"Mom, can you come to my Category 6 team Banquet?"
"What? Why?"
"Cause that what Mom's do."
"Are you getting an Award?"
"No"
"You mean just you and your three other dumb friends are having a banquet
and you want me to come...are ya nuts?!"
"sort of."
"no"
So no ones moms could make it, but that was OK I guess. My proudest moment as
a athlete would just have to be photographed and put up on this website so all 48
seperate race fans who the majority of use Windows NT 5.0 and were directed to
this site from Unknown mostly on Monday and Tuesday afternoons could share my
joy.
Here's what happened.
Food was arranged like the pros do it.
Duh, this was a BANQUET, not some soup
kitchen
Our host and master of ceremonies gave
a wonderful speech regaling the teams
accomplishments this year.
No one really knew what he said
because his mouth was full, but he no
doubt highlighted our wins.
Tyler showed up and looked a little like Andre Agassi.
I didn't know he was a US Open fan.
Dan and his wife shocked us.
Carl brought Sam's spirit again.
He was a spaz.
We really should pursue sponsors next year.
Not that our pastry chef was not first rate.
Then we found a mistake by the caterer's.
Oops, they mislabeled the beer. Good thing my
mom didn't come to this second rate hack job of a
banquet.
Brett thought he could out eat us.
He's obviously "on the rivet" of a G.I. melt down. Time
for some off season training.
Sorry Sam, Carl made a new friend. Don't worry the
new friend is just as much of a spaz, just a difference of
tennis balls vs. Cafferey's subs.
And the reason we all came. Open Bar. Surprising our parents didn't show up.
Before and after seen
