The Goat Pen

KeviNole wrote:I have some issue with that statement...that's how Wake Forest operates - accept 2 years of shit then 1 year of "better" followed by 1 year of "good to very good", but depending on age and veteran experience does not consistently win.

In 2007, 17 of BC's players were graduate students. It is no wonder, BC kicked everyone ass (except FSU, fuck you.) Age, absolutely, positively matters.

It is an older article, but the point made is still very valid.

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/inside ... of_reilly/

Fifty-two players on the Cougars' 106-man roster -- 11 of 22 starters -- have spent two years on a Mormon mission. That means Brigham Young is starting guys who look like the Skipper compared with everybody else's Gilligan. Hell, 30 guys on the team are married! One tight end who was on last year's team had five kids!

The Cougars have 21 players age 24 and older, including six 25 and older. They have 13 starters who are at least 23, an age when most college players have already graduated and are selling life insurance. By the end of next season they'll have seven 25-year-old seniors and two who'll be 26. They've got three 23-year-old freshmen! Makes it kind of hard to haze them. All right, freshmen! Make your wife and kids breakfast!

BYU is hardly a representative university when talking about player age, IB.

How do you propose having a team full of seniors EVERY YEAR? Either (a) they all have very little experience because they've been sitting behind other seniors for 3 or 4 years, or (b) they have very little talent because they couldn't see the field for 3 or 4 years. This approach worked in the "good old days" when you could have over 100 kids on scholarship and there wasn't a rush to the NFL for the good players, but these days it doesn't work. It can give you a shining moment every few years (which is exactly what I said in my post) but it's not a sustainable strategy.

BC has been somewhat lucky to be under the radar recruiting-wise - they can get good players who haven't gotten much attention because HS football in the Northeast is underappreciated. However, the fact is that if FSU can hold onto its current coaching staff without major turnover, it is going to be a force in CFB.

KeviNole wrote:BYU is hardly a representative university when talking about player age, IB.

How do you propose having a team full of seniors EVERY YEAR?

You don't. But when you do (if you have taken your lumps over a series of years) watch out. That is what happened for VPI after they finally got it together last year.

Auburn was a very senior team last year, as was Alabama in 2009. I would have said Ohio State would be the team to beat had it not been for all the penalties they must pay this year.

KeviNole wrote:BC has been somewhat lucky to be under the radar recruiting-wise - they can get good players who haven't gotten much attention because HS football in the Northeast is underappreciated. However, the fact is that if FSU can hold onto its current coaching staff without major turnover, it is going to be a force in CFB.

I'm sure you'll be just fine.

did IB just advocate that all the Eagle players take a two-year sabbatical to go on mission work?

dave_rickart wrote:did IB just advocate that all the Eagle players take a two-year sabbatical to go on mission work?

No

You should read his stories. I mean if you think what he says here is outrageous.

Red Bird wrote:You should read his stories. I mean if you think what he says here is outrageous.

What stories are those?

The ones you posted. Or did you not post them?

Red Bird wrote:The ones you posted. Or did you not post them?

If you are going to slander me, please be more specific.

No intent to slander. Aren't you the one that was going to post some stories?

Sorry if I have you confused with someone else. No offense.

Red Bird wrote:No intent to slander. Aren't you the one that was going to post some stories?

Sorry if I have you confused with someone else. No offense.

Oh, no offense taken. The story I would like to post is fiction, not meant to be "outrageous." And what I post here isn't outrageous either.

Oh, OK well what is your story meant to be? I mean I'd rather be outrageous than dull or safe or ordinary, at least as a story.

Again, it was not meant to offend.

Red Bird wrote:Oh, OK well what is your story meant to be?

It's called Trans-Atlantic. It is about a cruise.

I hope it's really about people.

Maybe a disaster story with a ship in a storm and desperate people struggling for life? Or a sentimental story of lonely people in quiet desperation seeking love and hope? Or is the story about secret agents tracking an intentional terrorist crossing the ocean bent on creating hell on earth?

I'm stoked about the possibilities.

It's called Trans-Atlantic. It is about a cruise.

I read a book entitled Atlantic High - it wasn't fiction but a real story about cruising across the Atlantic - written by William Buckley - great read

Chapter One

2003

"It says the file isn't there! It is supposed to be there. Why isn't the file there?"

(remain calm.... count to three.... 1, 2)) "I think the reason why you are having problems locating the file is that it hasn't been FTPed from the data center yet."

(exasberated) "Well, why the Hell isn't it here yet?!?! I need to go home! I've been here all night. I need to close these tickets so I can get home and get my kids to school, but I can't close them without this file. GET IT FOR ME!"

(remain calm.... count to three.... 1, 2)) "Ma'am, I have no power to get the data center to create the file for you any soo..."

"WHO IS YOUR BOSS?!?! Whoever it is, transfer me to him or her RIGHT NOW! You are useless."

"Ma'am, my boss doesn't come in until 8AM. If you'd like to speak with her, you'll have to stick around another hour, and I'll be happy to transfer..."

"Fuck it!" (hangs up)

(sigh) I am SOOOOO ready for vacation. (Stephen looks at his watch. 7:06 AM.) So ready. Alas, I have one more night at this hell hole answering phones and talking to mental midgets. I go home in half an hour, I'll get 5 or 6 hours of sleep, I'll go to class tonight, take the final, pass it (these evening classes are a joke), come to work tonight, baby sit these braindead users, and I am FREE for 11 days! Cruisetime! I can't wait.

Stephen Mills, a 21 year old Computer Science student at Northeastern University in Boston Massachusetts, transfered to the evening program two years ago when he secured his 3rd shift helpdesk job with Fidelity Investments. Since taking the job, he has had his hours altered from 8 hours a night, 5 nights a week, to 12 hours a night, 3 nights a week. So for Stephen, his workweek starts at 7:30 PM Sunday Night, but it ends 7:30 Wednesday morning.

SOOOOO READY....

Heading home Tuesday morning, Stephen made sure to stop by the dry cleaners to pick up the last of his shirts. What isn't clean this morning, will not be going to England.

He hasn't even started packing yet, not one bit. He wants to wait until the very last possible minute before he starts stuffing the lightly starched dress shirts into the garment bag. This way, it gives the clothes less time to wrinkle.

So much preparation has been going into this vacation, a uniquely individual vacation just for Stephen. He knows of not one other person, not one that is in his unique circumstances that would allow for such a voyage. Stephen has been working 2 straight years (without a vacation.) He first started as a temp at Fidelity. No bennies, not vacations. Just 8 months ago, his position became full-time. Oh how happy Stephen was to hear that he would at last be given the occational paid holiday, the sick time, and of course, that gorgeous week of paid vacation.

He planned. He put so much planning in, it had to be perfect. All his friends his own age were telling his he was wasting his money. "You'll never have a good time on a ship all alone." "Hah, you are out $2000 and for what, so you can eat lobster one evening? How about you give me just $1000, I'll take you Legal Seafoods, and we'll call it even?" "There is no way you are going to get laid dude, why are you doing this?" But Stephen knew the real reason they were saying these things. His friends (all his age, or a little older) were full-time students. They didn't have his earning power. They couldn't appreciate how valuable that week off (both from school and that infernal Fidelity Help Desk) is, how important it is to Stephen to fill that time with something that will give him a lifetime of memories. He always wanted to go on a cruise, now he'll be able to cruise across the Atlantic Ocean.

$2000. That was the figure, $2000. That is what Stephen took home in an entire month of sitting in that cube, 12 hours a night, 13 days a month. He was blowing an entire month's earnings on a trip that would last all of 9 days.

Inside, 93-square-foot, single cabin, on the Queen Elizabeth II: $836.00

One way ticket on a Virgin Atlantic 767 extended range jumbo jet from Logan to Heathrow Airport: $198.00

Two night's stay at a London Hostel: $136.00

Peter Pan bus ticket from Port Authority New York City back to Boston on the absolute worst day of Stephen's vacation: $86.50

Walking around cash so Stephen could buy Fish and Chips in London and some liquor, 36 condoms, and a couple/three poker buy-ins on the QE2: $850

A lifetime of memories of hanging out with some gorgeous, topless, European babes who refused to shave their pits: Priceless


Yes, it was going to be a good trip, damn it. Here it is, early August, the second summer session of school is over tonight, and all Stephen has to think about is his vacation.

Stephen chose a Trans-Atlantic crossing not because he was all that interested in flying to England and then sailing back on a slow boat to New York, but instead because he was a "single." Of all the Cruiseships in the world, the QE2 offered more single cabins than any other ship (151 in all.) And because they actally had single cabins on the ship (things you wouldn't find on the more family friendly Carnival Conquest, Disney Magic, or the Norwegian Star), a single passenger didn't have to pay DOUBLE the passage rate to use up a whole cabin all to himself or herself. On any other ship, Stephen would have to do just that.

He got home around 8:15. He took a shower. Shaved. Toweled off, and went to his room to catch about 5 hours of shut-eye before officially starting his day. But all he could think about was the voyage. Did he have everything prepared? Was he leaving anything to chance? Was he bringing enough money? Was he goingto regret he ever went? Was this the best use of his time? (Rubbish) Right now, get some sleep. When you wake up, do a couple hours cramming for the final exam this evening, pass the test, go to work, and worry about that crap tomorrow.

Elsewhere, 6 timezones away, someone else was also asking herself questions about the voyage, but for entirely different reasons.

Chapter 2

Notting Hill, England, 2:15 PM GMT

Amanda Courier and her flatmate Anne Gould were finishing up boxing the last of their belongings. In both front windows, the landlord placed "For Lease" signs. The entire two-bedroom flat smelled of Clorox as the two of them have been pouring bleach everywhere, down all the pipes, on all the tile, throughout the fridge, on the walls even, anything that might have a spec of DNA that might make it easier for Scotland Yard to trace what had happened back to Amanda or Anne. Anne had already removed and replaced all the carpets last week. The movers were arriving in just a two hours to pick up all of their valuables to be shipped to America.

"My lady, we will..."

"DON'T do that, Anne, don't, they don't talk like that in the States. They don't much talk like that here anymore, but we would be drawing too much attention to ourselves if we don't dramatically alter our mannerisms."

"Forgive me my la-(snaps fingers), oh, yeah, right, just shut hell up bitch!"

Amanda smiles at Anne.

"Much better Annie, much better. Remember, we have to make like ours is a Domestic Partnership, and intimate relationship. We will be moving to Boston and getting married."

"It's legal there Amanda?"

"In Massachusetts, it is. Their current Governor is doing all that he can to make sure that people can't just go to the state from the other states and get married under their new laws. Apparently this interstate marriage reciprocity only exists if the state residents can be married legally in their own state. So we will need identification that proves we are not only US Citizens, but also Massachusetts residents. Are we sure all the affairs are in order?"

"Yes they are Amanda. Our connections have acquired us both birth certificates, social security cards, US Passports, and Massachusetts Drivers Licenses. I'll pick those tomorrow morning while you are resting before our voyage...."

"Very good. And from now on, it's Mandy, not Amanda."

"That will be hard to remember. I know I'm going to slip up from time to time."

"That's okay. They will just think when you use my full first name, it will be one of endearment."

"Mandy, you know I'm going to have to take down the window shades before the movers get here."

"Yes I know. I'll just make myself absent. It will be dimmer by 4PM. By 6 this evening, I expect that I'll be able to go outside. It's just too bad that we couldn't fly to the States...."

"It just wasn't possible. It wasn't. International flights would be the first place the authorities would be lurking for people who are trying to leave the country. It is far too risky. We have the advantage that nobody knows who we are nor do they know what we look like. But they do know that we are going to want to leave. A slow boat to the United States as US Citzens going home? That is brilliant. We wont have any trouble I promise you, my lady."

They both looked at each other and said nothing for a few moments.... then went right back to Cloroxing and packing.
7PM GMT

The moving company gathered the last of the boxes and packed them in the back of the truck. Annie signed the release for moving the merchandise to Philidelphia using her British identity. When they get to the States, she will use that same identity (for the very last time) to retreive them. Then, she and Amanda plan to forgo all that was once British about them, become full blooded Yankee, and disappear into a country of nearly 300,000,000 people. But before all of that can happen, there are still loose ends that must be tied up here at Notting Hill. That includes dealing with Arthur.

"Mandy, are you going to see him tonight to say goodbye, or later in the week?"

"I am scheduled to arrive tonight sometime after 8:30."

"How long before he'll be missed?"

(Amanda checks the calander on the wall to note when she first began the relationship) "Well, at this point, he's probably been too sick to go to work. I estimate that he hasn't been to the office since Friday. So if he doesn't make it in at all for the remainder of this week, I don't think they are going to be surprised. If we wrap the body properly so that it doesn't smell, by the time anyone bothers to try and check on him, we'll be halfway to New York. Where are we with money?"

(Anne looks at an Excel Spreadsheet) "By my estimation, we have just over 300,000 pounds. Tomorrow morning I'll clean out the safe deposit boxes, and roam to various bank branches all over London, and buy US dollars in small amounts at each location. That should bring us just over $600,000."

"Will that be enough until we get started again?"

"Well, we will be safe for a while. I'll have to re-enter society in someway when we get to Framingham and lease our first flat..."

"APARTMENT!"

"...oh yes, sorry Mandy, when we lease our first apartment. I haven't quite yet decided which method I'll use to bring the men to us. This will be my first time in the States."

Amanda checks her watch, 7:41 PM. She goes back to her room to examine what all is left. Just a matress and some sheets that will be destroyed, a brown box with sweat pants, jeans, t-shirts, and flip-flops, all of which will be destroyed before they leave. Her attire and make-up are packed in their suicases, sitting in her empty closet, ready for the Saturday voyage.

Amanda turns to Anne "I'll be leaving soon. You'd better go get some dinner. It has been a long day for you and it will be a long night for the both of us."

"When do you want me to join you?"

"I'll be through around 10:30. Do you know how to get there?"

"Yes, the directions you left are very precise."

"Good, show up about 10:45 or so. You don't need to bring anything as he already has a large collection of cutlery. If there isn't enough space in his fridge, we'll just throw everything out just like last time."

Amanda looks at her watch. 7:43. She goes to her all by empty fridge and removed the bottle of white wine.

"Alright, it is all settled. How do I look?"

"Beautiful."

"Good. Okay, 10:45 sharp."

Amanda turns and heads out for the Tube. Anne looks over her empty bedroom. There is even less in her room than was in Amanda's.

"I'm going to miss this place, this country. The men here are so polite, so proper. It is just not going to be the same."

2PM Eastern Standard Time

Stephen wakes up, looks around his room. He grabs the $83.99 Economics tome (that he hates) and starts to re-read the last 3 chapters that Professor Siedleman covered.

Siedleman was an admitted Keyensian, so much so that he wondered why government even bothered to let the ordinary man have any say at all in the free market. Siedleman's opinion was that ordinary people (such as Stephen) are simply not educated enough to know what the hell need and it is incumbant upon government to take as much as they can from them and then "give back" to them what is necessary. Stephen's opinion of Professor Siedleman was that he needed to get laid.

There wasn't any homework or tests for this class. All the Professor did, was give a mid-term and a final, each exam with 50 questions. Each question was of a multiple choice variety. Each question was taken directly from this ridiculous tome. For every question you go right, you got a point on your final grade. Seemed simple enough.

Stephen got bored with the book, placed it down momentarily, and looked around his room. He could see his Stephen King books placed neatly and alphabetically on the top shelf of his bookcase. Underneath them on the next shelf, Mary Shelly, Bram Stoker, Edgar Allen Poe, and H.P. Lovecraft. Just below them, a whole shelf dedicated to Dean Koontz. Below that, a shelf with a collection of authors from Sydney Sheldon to L Ron Hubbard.

Against another wall was his desktop computer and laser printer. He hadn't even turned it on this summer. Stephen prefers to spend the two summer sessions taking his liberal arts electives and not computer classes. Subsequently, he had no need to look at his computer as most of his web browsing he did at Northeastern's computer lab.

Against the last wall were his concert posters. Stephen's eyes were immediately transfixed on the Black Eyed Peas (more specifically, Stacey "Fergie" Ferguson.) Oh, what a perfect body she had, must have worked out 3 maybe 4 hours a day, easy. Steve could only dream about hooking up with someone like her. He felt himself stiffen, hard as a rock. Nope, can't worry about that right now. He has to study. Try and focus Stephen.

8:32 GMT, England

Amanda knocks on Arthur's door. He's probably just expecting another booty call (as that is all they ever want.) The least she can do is make the last one the best. At this point, he is incapable of thinking rationally, incapable of resisting her charms. None of them could resist her this close to the end. Unforunately, he also might be incapable of getting out of bed and buzzing her in if his overall health condition was no better than when she left him late Sunday night. She had been through that before and breaking and entering is just not Amanda's style. Still, the buzzer rang and she let herself in to his flat.

His living room door opened. Tragically, it wasn't Arthur.

"Hello dearie. You must be Myriam. My name's Sal, I'm Arthur's sister."

"Wha--- I don't understand. I thought, I thought Arthur was an only child?"

"Did he tell you that? Silly boy. I suppose that is half true as I'm his half sister. His father only had one child. His mum, heh, there were four of us."

Arthur's voice carried throughout the flat. "Myriam.... I need, I need to see you..."

"Well that would be just about enough of that brother. She is here but you wont be seeing her tonight. Eat your chicken soup." Sal turns to Amanda. "Arthur caught the worst of colds, poor love can't even get out of bed. He gave me a call last night and I've been here ever since. I figured if he is not getting any better by tomorrow I'd take him to see the doctor..."

"No, I'm sure it's just flu."

"Well I would agree but it's August. That is not flu season."

Amanda and Sal just looked at each other. Then they both looked back at Arthur's bedroom.

"You'd better go Myriam. I'll take care of him tonight, maybe have you pinch hit for me tomorrow night if you don't mind looking after sickie people. I'll have him give you a call--"

(think fast... think fast) "Well I mean I have no other plans tonight, perhaps I can help?"

"It is just an awful cold he has... what do you have there?"

Amanda pulls the white wine bottle out of the bag. "Just a bottle of Chardonnay. Napa Valley, 1997."

"I love California wines!"

"I can pour us both a glass if you'd like. It will give us some time to talk. I'd like to know more about you Sal."

"Well.... I suppose as long as we're quiet and he doesn't know you're here, there is no harm in that. I don't know what kind of spell you've put him under. All he's been moaning about for the last 24 hours in that room is that he had to see you. I didn't know that there was pootie on this earth that had that much control over the man."

Both women smiled and giggled. Amanda poured Sal and herself a glass.

1:49 PM Central Time, Chicago

"We bought the place as is. I only wanted it as it was, not as it is now!"

"What is your problem sir?"

"My problem is that someone broke into the house last night before you and I signed papers this morning, and did thousands of dollars of damage. They broke down the front door, tore through the plaster and sheetrock, and pulled all the copper pipes out of this house. Then they left it."

"How could they have done that sir? How do you remove the pipe from the walls?"

"Are you kidding me? If you don't care what the place looks like when you are through, you just need a car and a long length of strong chain. Tie one end of the chain to any part of the pipe in the wall and the other end to the bumper of your car and drive away!"

"Look this conversation is going--"

"I'll tell you exactly where it is going. It is going with me hanging up and dialing my lawyer to have him sue your ass if you don't agree to meet me this afternoon with a $20,000 money order in your hand. Then, and only then, will South Chicago Bank be off the hook."

"(puff) (snort) Mr Walker, I don't have the authority to--"

"Fuck you, you don't! You absolutely do have that authority. You had the authority this morning to act on behalf of the bank to take my $183,000 check. The least you can do is try to compensate me some money since what happened to the house that I now own, happened while the bank still owned it. You guys are liable here. I have a case and you know it. Now, are you going to meet me at that shit-stain of a house that you just sold me with that bank check in your hand, or do I have to get legal and sue you guys for $60,000?"

"(sigh) Alright we don't want to be sued. I will be at the property in one hour. I won't be alone, one of our in-house council will be with me. If she agrees that we responsible and there was a breach of contract, you will get a check. How's that?"

"That is the smartest thing you've said in the last ten minutes John."

(hangs up)

Tom Walker earned a living buying distressed properties from lending institutions. He bought them cheap, gutted them, re-built them, and then sold them. It is not much of a living but it is a living. It is only a living if you are willing to be a hardass and deal with some of the most unscrupulous people that ever existed.

Tom had to hurry. He had much gutting to do on this house in the next 48 hours. Hell, the dumpster hadn't even arrived yet. He had a crew arriving on Saturday morning with lumber, sheetrock, paint, and now, new pipe. They were the building crew, not the wrecking crew. Tom didn't like to pay people to do work that he himself could do. And demolishing the inside of a vandalized foreclosed home, is something that gave him much enjoyment and satisfaction. In his mind, he is making the world a much better place while enriching himself at the same time. A two-fer!

Truthfully, Tom didn't think he was going to be the high bidder on the 100 year old, 3-family home. He was pleasantly surprised when all his competition yielded to him at 183K. To celebrate this purchase, while the building crew worked Tom was going to take a week's vacation on a boat from England to New York.

3:06 PM Eastern Standard Time: Jacksonville Florida

"Dr Martha Blyhope's office, how can I help you?.... You have a rash, where dear?..... On your heel, I see. Have you seen Dr Blyhope before?..... No, okay I'll need you to fill out some paperwork when you get here, do you have insurance?.... Yes we take, that. Very good, how is 4PM today, she has an opening?.... Okay thank you, we will see you then. (hangs up) Doctor, you have Emily Waters in exam room 2."

"Thank you Jessie."

Martha Blyhope managed her own Podiatry practice in North Florida.

"Mrs Waters what can I do for you?"

"I have an in-grown toenail. I was hopeful that is would grow out a little and we wouldn't have to lance it, but I think it might be infected."

Martha examines the foot. "You are correct, we have a small infection. I don't think we'll need to lance it though. I'll write a script for some anti-biotics."

"Thanks Doc."

Martha leaves the exam room and places a call.

"Scott Blyhope's office please. Thank you."

"Hi Honey."

"Scott, come on now you know that I am not your Honey anymore."

"I can't help it. After you've been married for 8 years it is difficult..."

"Scott, you have a NEW Honey now. And you are married again, remember?"

"It's different I---- I love you both."

"You've loved a lot of women Scott. You loved too many women Scott, which is why you and I aren't..."

"Okay, yes I get it. It was all my fault. I screwed up. I've said I was sorry to you and your mom about a hundred million times, but you are the mother of my children so you will always still be my Honey."

(sigh) "Whatever. Just do me a favor and don't let that high school student you marri..."

"She is 26 Martha, not 16."

"...just don't let her hear you call me Honey. Alright? Do that one thing for me, if you really love me, don't say that about me around her okay? I can't deal with any crap right now from her or from anything that she might say to the kids."

"Reasonable request... Honey."

"And try not to take our children out for pizza every night? Maybe have Louise make them something with some green leafy vegitibles for dinner? I'm sure she can plan a meal in-between watching Dr Phil and Oprah."

"Cute, nice dig Martha. She is looking for work right now, just having a little dry spell."

"14 months? Scott I need some office help here. I'll put her on myself if she would just show up on time."

"Let's not get into this again, please, Honey."

(simmer) "Fine. I'll drop the kids off on Thursday night. You and Louise will have them for 10 days."

"I think we can handle it."

"It will be damn near impossible to get a hold of me while we are at sea."

"Like I said, I think we can handle it."

"Okay good..... Scott, I love you." (why the fuck did I say that?)

"I love you too Martha."