*Thursday 3/12 - Travel Day*
We met in the lower level of the MSP airport for group check-in at 3:30pm.
Several cowboy hats were already in play and all the tour trinkets were out
and accounted for. A few of the smarter people bypassed the lengthy group
check-in process sailing right through and not participating in the first of
many “hurry up and wait” exercises of the tour. They were fined immediately
by the Tour FineMaster Jason “General” Hohenstein. The first “Richard of
the Day” was awarded to John Clarno. Richard of the Day consisted of a
blaze orange vest and cowboy hat embroidered with Richard of the Day which
was clearly visible from space. So, we’re checked in, beyond security with
over 2 hours before the flight…what to do, what to do? Just so happens to
be quite a few watering holes in the airport so that’s where we ended up.
What better activity prior to 18 hours of travel than getting a few pints of
loud mouth soup down the hatch along with some spicy food? And so it
began….The flight boarded pretty much on time, but as soon as we were on
and the doors were shut we were informed that due to strong tailwinds we’d
have to sit tight for awhile as Heathrow doesn’t accept flights as early as
we would get in. Oh well. The flight was fairly uneventful, although we
did our best to change that, the libations were flowing and very little, if
any, sleep was had. There were a few instances where folks where asked to
sit back down in their seats and not linger in the isle, turns out 2 minutes
or more can be classified as “plotting”. Perhaps they overhead us
discussing how to divert the airplane to Dublin since we were flying right
over it instead of landing in London, switching planes and then back
tracking. I have a tough time seeing how a bunch of cowboy hat wearin’,
cussin’, beer drinkin’ rugby players can be viewed as a threat, but I
digress. Touch down at London’s Heathrow airport…..7ish am local time.

*Friday 3/13 - Travel Day Par Deux*
Now all we have to do is get off the plane, reclaim our luggage, check in
with British Midland Airlines and wait peacefully for about 4 hours for our
connecting 1 hour long flight to Dublin. Well, it wasn’t quite that easy.
As you might imagine, we all had a lot of gear. Preparing for 10 days
abroad, with what we figured to be suspect weather as well as rugby kits,
takes up a lot of space. We cleared customs, claimed luggage and prepared
the long journey to the other terminal. Tired, hungover, perhaps still
under the influence, we slogged through a series of tunnels and one very
cramped tram to the proper terminal. Great, time to off-load our gear and
relax for a bit. No dice. Turns out British Midlands wouldn’t accept our
stuff until 11am, and it was maybe 8am at this time. The slow death
continues as we try to find somewhere to eat, rest and keep all of our
belongings secure. Everyone pretty much ended up in one area with some
going to sleep right away with others filling out tables and getting their
first taste of fine English Breakfast. A group of us sat around a table,
pretty much not talking, just looking dazed and confused, basically hating
the mere presence of the other. That was until someone suggested getting a
beer, it was like 10:30am after-all and we are on tour. Suddenly the
mood as well as all the bags lightened and we all got along again. We
checked back in, everyone doing the right thing, except for Richard who
decided to attach the Richard hat to the outside of this checked bag. That
hat didn’t make it to Dublin, but the fine did and a new Richard hat was
procured. Everyone made the connecting flight and a few winks on that short
flight were grabbed. Arrival in Dublin where the Reed Sisters (Chris and
Ricky) met up with us to join in the Dublin leg of the Tour. Our coach was
waiting for us, which we quickly loaded…err, over-loaded with gear and
travel weary tourists. If memory serves it was roughly 4ish or so by this
time and we had to make one more stop prior to getting to the hotel and that
was at Tesco for the “essentials”. Yup, gotta stock up the rooms because
there weren’t enough pubs in Dublin to take care of us. Quick check in, and
get ready for the team dinner in the hotel restaurant at 7:30pm.
First Kangaroo Court was held and the Finemaster levied fines accordingly.
Dinner was fine and it was time to explore our surroundings. I don’t
remember who was “awarded” Richard of the Day. We walked around and had no
problem finding a few pubs ready to sell us all the pints we could handle.
Nothing overly crazy, we had a match the next day after all and what a match
it was….

*Saturday 3/14 - Match Day versus Old Suttonians*
Coach departed for the 45 minute drive out to the Old Suttonian’s pitch, all
present and accounted for! Yeah, um, wait, where’s Tex? Who’s his
roommate? Butters. Um…where’s Butters? Guess we’ll have to turn around
for our #6 & #7. Okay, now we’re off! Lovely little drive to Sutton for
the match. Drove through a very posh neighborhood, along the coast. I
figured it must be nice because they had lawns, assuming that a lawn close
to the city on an island is a fairly good indicator you’re doing just fine.
Anywho, we show up to the Suttonian’s clubhouse, nice digs. There are some
players milling around, showering up after what was clearly a training
session. I spoke with one of them on their way out to the car and learned
he was a First XV player and had no idea who we were or why we were there.
Not a big deal, the First XV of a club this size may not have any idea what
their 2nds are doing today, I can dig that. So we wait…and we wait, and
we wait some more. The Suttonian’s Chairman was there and told us that
exactly one month prior, 2/14, the team we were scheduled to play showed up
all geared up ready to play. They warmed up and waited and waited, alas, we
didn’t show. Looks like there was a miscommunication on their end.
I talked to a few of them after the match, sounds like they still had fun in
the Clubhouse until about 2am that night, without the bumps and
bruises. Yup, that really happened. Regardless, about 30min before
scheduled kick-off some players, that weren’t us, showed up and slowly began
warm ups. And I mean slowly. A few minutes before kick-off the ref grabbed
me for what I thought would be the normal, “we’ll have none of this, don’t
do this, etc.” discussion. Oh how I wish that’s how the conversation went.
Instead, he informed me that since we were playing a Vets team, we’d be
playing by Vets rules. What are those you may be asking yourself. Well,
they stink. Uncontested scrums and no kicking outside your own 22m line.
He was also very concerned with safety, etc. etc. Fair enough. We let this
get in our heads, and I’ll admit I could have done more to not let this
impact the team mentality. It was just so new and different to all of us we
didn’t know what to think…and it showed. Somehow uncontested scrums
turned into us thinking we shouldn’t tackle, ruck or hold on to the ball.
The Suttonian Vets got up on us by a try on their first possession and
scored two before we even got on the board. It took a couple kicks to the
head for us to figure out what was going on and we settled things down
rallying to a final tally of 4 tries to 2 or something like that. All in
all a much closer game than it ever should have been, I wish we could blame
it all on jet lag, but that would simply be a lie. So, back to the
clubhouse for a quick shower to share in pints and camaraderie with the Old
Suttonians and watch Ireland play Scotland, live in the Six Nations with an
Irish rugby team. They fed us well and were very hospitably. There were 40
kids outside playing an impromptu game of rugby with their proud fathers
looking on. They were young, they were playing tackle and they were
probably better than us, especially at that point in the day. 9:30pm, back
on the coach to head downtown to invade the Temple Bar section of Dublin.
And what an invasion it was, there is one pub in particular that will never
forget us yanks…although I’ll never remember it’s name.

*Sunday 3/15 - Tour Day Guiness Storehouse & Newgrange*
It’s worth noting here that the hotel lobby turned into the de facto late
night drinking area, with the party often continuing well into the morning.
Oddly enough, the same area was where we met for our daily breakfast that
started at 8am. I believe the night shift passed the day shift more than
once during our several nights there. There was a bit of a thinning of the
herd on Sunday’s tours, which would be a common theme throughout as some
folks found that checking their eyelids for holes was more important than
seeing some old stuff from a crowded bus. Great tour of the Guinness
Storehouse and Newgrange, many pictures taken and stories exchanged from the
days prior. The longer times in transit allowed for opportunities to catch
some shuteye if you could drown out the incessant drone of our tour guide
describing expounding her life story. Fortunately, however, the speakers
didn’t work in the back of the bus so people quickly learned that was the
place to be. We were on our own that night, good time to rest up for the
following day’s match, which we were all convinced would be much tougher and
more of a fit. We also thought St. Patrick wore a green hat, funny suit and
had a red beard. Oh, almost forgot that Ivan and Boris were attacked by
wolves in their hotel room this night. These Russian Comrades were quite
the duo the rest of the tour and everything was copacetic.

*Monday 3/16 - Tour of Trinity College, North County Dublin and match under
lights versus Seapoint RFC*
Everyone back on the bus…well nearly everyone. We did a short bus tour of
some of the city’s historical points..in a new bus, with working speakers
EVERYWHERE, no escape, “ummmmmm”. Walking tour of Trinity College & Book of
Kells, coffee shop then back on the bus for lunch. Fine session over lunch
where the Finemaster himself was awarded the Richard of the Day. Back on
the bus, for a leisurely drive to the country and a great little
fishing community, Hoth, and more of our tour guides life story along with a
word or two about Dublin. We had about 2 hours to kick back and prepare for
the ride out to Seapoint RFC. This ride was about an hour or so long with
everyone doing their thing to mentally prepare for an epic battle with a
real Irish Rugby team. We arrive…alone to an empty clubhouse. Well,
that’s fine, the team must be hiding, we’re not even that early. Again,
they start to filter in, we’re already on the pitch warming up. Again, the
ref grabs me for what I’m convinced will be the normal discussion. Turns
out it was the normal discussion...the discussion that they give prior to
the Vets matches! UGH. Here we go again. This time they have only about
17 players, we have 30ish. Uncontested scrums again, but they didn’t say
anything about kicking, which I thought was great, turns out we wouldn’t
need it. It got out of hand quickly, we had about 95% ball possession and
ran up the score quickly. We didn’t let the rules get in our heads this
time. At half-time (which was only 30 min into the match) they asked for
some of our players. Of course some of us were a bit peeved as we didn’t
travel 4000miles to play each other, we also didn’t travel that far to be
jerks either so some guys stood up and volunteered, hats off to them.
Another 30min, tops, of rugby and we left the field 80 something to 7
victors. Quote of the match was overheard as there was some arguing on
Seapoint’s team and one player to another to “f-off, I fought in the war!”.
Not sure which one it was but it’s possible horses were still in use. We
retired to the clubhouse where they fed us some nice chicken curry and we
drank their Guinness, exchanged gifts and loaded the bus around 10pm to try
and have a couple pints back in Dublin before calling it a night. As it was
St. Patty’s Eve we were taking a bit easyish. We did try to move from the
Pub to another at one point but quickly found out the City was shutting down
early. Of course taking it “easy” while on tour means going to bed at 1am
instead of 3am and maybe having 2 glasses of water instead of zero.

*Tuesday 3/17 - St. Patrick’s Day (aka Day of the World’s Second Largest
Leprechaun)*
The day of days, the longest day, the best day? So many people have asked
which day was the best day, I’d imagine some would throw this out as their
first answer. If it wasn’t the best (personally, the days in Rugby were the
best) it was the one with the most activity. First of all the parade route
started right in front of our hotel. Walk out the front door and a mere 6
feet away you’ll hit the barrier for the parade. So, if you wanted to you
could sit in comfort at the front of the hotel, with beers in your room
and your own private toilet, that’d be the easy way and probably smart
way. As you can imagine, that’s not the way things rolled. We were told
that if we tried, we could actually march in the parade, cool. So, we met
at 9am in front of the hotel (an early start to a long day) in order to
rally and meet with the parade organizers. Babiash and a few others went
ahead to chat with them and they said only organizations that performed or
were charities or something like that could march. A few people could go
and hold signs, but we wanted to get everyone in. So, no dice. Next plan
of action? Let’s go harass the Today Show (Al and Meridith) who
where broadcasting from Dublin Castle, a short 20min walk away. A
large group, dressed smartly in tour jerseys headed down there to linger
over the filming. If you go to Hulu.com you can find some clips with some
recognizable faces. I found out quickly that standing behind Oaf and
General is not a good way to get on camera, but it works well for taking a
nip off the flask. Highlight there would be Dilley’s Leprechaun beard and
hat rather aggressively placed on Meridith’s face. Upon further discussion
the fact that none of us would want to wear either of those ourselves was
unanimous and we’re quite certain Meridith spent extra time in make-up the
next day to cover up a blemish or three.

The fun ended there around noon thirty and with nearly 3 hours before the
parade reaches the spot that we now find ourselves…what to do? Walking
back to the hotel, through the now mammoth crowd, wasn’t worth it so we did
what any self respecting tourist would do. We pretended that we wanted a
bottle of water from the convenience store so we didn’t seem so desperate,
looked at each other for awhile and finally gave into the inevitable...off
to the pub. This was more of a beer hall than a mere pub, and right on the
corner of the parade route. A group of about 15 were there, eating,
drinking and watching the parade through the windows. We were too tired
to stand outside and watch in the sun, come on, sun is such a common thing
over there. Anyway, the beer hall was superb, but the lines for beer were
long. We learned quickly to grab more than one beer when you went up there
and just share. All learned, except for Gordon “Han Solo” Hilleque…he was
fined.

A few other things went on while this group was at beer hall/parade. There
was a group that headed out to watch what amounted to the Irish National
High School Rugby Championship at a great stadium. All reports from that
group was that it was a fantastic event. We actually caught some of that
from the TVs at the Beer Hall. Did I mention that there was rugby on the TV
24/7 out there? Awesome. Something else interesting happened during this
time. Turns out the victory we had over the Seapoint Vets team was actually
a pounding of Seapoint RFC…or so it was declared from our very own Travis
Karlin during a nationally televised, man-on-the-street interview. Seapoint
RFC is basically the best team in First Level Irish rugby and we had just
handed them the first lost of their season!!! Excellent. More to come on
that.

Parade is now over and it’s time to leave the Beer Hall and regroup with the
larger touring collective. On the meandering walk home we stumble, err,
find a bar by the name of “Legend’s”. It was as though St. Patrick himself
was smiling down upon us showing us the path. We took a few photos of the
sign and figured it would be the right thing to do to stop in for a pint, we
still had ten more minutes to walk after all. After few pints, and learning
that there would be live music that night to wrap up the day, we decided it
would be the required stop for the entire group later that night. And so it
was. At some point before the group rendezvous at Legends, someone decided
that eating would probably be a good idea, so a few of us headed to a great
little Italian joint and found ourselves at a nice corner table by the
window. Right in the middle of the main course, as a group of 6 of us were
sitting there in our tour jerseys, a St. Patty’s reveler pounds on the
window, pointing and yelling at us. We figure something bad is about to go
down as he runs around to the front door and bee-lines for our table. “Hey,
you are the guys that beat Seapoint!!! Well done!” Brilliant, we are now
legend’s in Dublin! The entire crew assembled at Legend’s, I believe the
meeting time was about 9pm and we all got in, amazingly. The live band was
excellent and the dancers absolutely incredible, couldn’t have asked for a
better atmosphere. At one point, big Oaf ripped off his Tour Jersey and
tossed it on stage, for which the lead singer exchanged the Irish Flag
hanging up behind the band. Nice trade, I’ll bet the green, white and
orange won’t run together if that flag is washed… Another excellent
showing of Metropolis at Legend’s. From there it all goes a bit sideways, a
few more pubs on the walk home after closing with the group staying up for a
few more in the hotel lobby, aka Metropolis Central.

*Wednesday 3/18 - Walk around and see whatever you haven’t see yet before we
leave*
The tourists broke up into manageable pods that walked around town to wear
off the week’s events, mentally prepare for the trip to Rugby, and buy the
gifts for those back home that we simply didn’t have time to take care of
before. I know a good group of tourists hopped on the DART (Dublin Area
Rapid Transport) for a ride with the locals back out to Hoth for what many
proclaimed to be the best seafood they’ve ever had. Others simply wandered
around the city, returned to the scene of the crime(s) in the Temple Bar
area for one last pint and some corned beef and cabbage. Most, but not all,
shut it down early, which in vacation time means midnight, as there was
packing to be done in preparation for the next morning’s scheduled 6:30am
departure time for the journey to Rugby, UK

*Thursday 3/19 - Bus, Ferry, Train, Train, Train, Bus Day*
Up and at them! Somehow everyone was present and accounted for in the lobby
at 6:30am, minus one room that was pretty sure someone messed with their
wake-up call. This was the first day that it wasn’t sunny from the very
beginning, a good bit of fog covered Dublin, pretty sure the fog was
actually there, but one cannot be too sure. We loaded the bus to head to
the ferry that would take us across to the UK. Loading the bus at this
point, with all the gear and some new tourists was like trying to fit ten
pounds of junk into a 5 pound bag, not an easy task. Nonetheless, off we go
for the 30min drive to the harbor. As we near, our Tour Director announces
that security will be there ready to welcome us and help us along the way.
It was at this point that several of us were convinced that the REAL
Seapoint Rugby team, after watching the broadcasts the day before, would be
there as well to get their 80 minutes, most likely without a rugby ball, but
instead with lead pipes, hurling sticks and razor sharp shamrocks.
Fortunately, however, we loaded the ferry without incident. Of course, this
was after we sat around, with hundreds of bags waiting for the Swift Ferry
that we were upgraded to for the trip. This was the biggest ferry
I’ve seen who wasn’t named Kyle Rooney, who, as luck would have was named
the Richard of the Day in another Kangaroo Court held on the journey over.
This was probably the most lucrative collection of the trip, during which
both Euros and Pounds Sterling were accepted.

The fog, literally and figuratively, lifted about half way across the water
and land was finally in view. Hurry up and wait for the first train, which
was originally supposed to the be first of three, then a shift to the first
of only two…but we ended up back on three. There was a bit of confusion
along the way as 40+ tourists loaded lots of baggage onto train cars, which
weren’t designed to take that kind of baggage, three different times over
the course of 4ish hours…but who is counting. What would a tour be
without a little confusion and the old married couple of Lavin and Babiash
having family discussions along the way…fines were indeed levied.

Rugby, UK!!!! Big Gay Dan and Butch met us at the train and pointed us to
the bus that would take us to the clubhouse. This one handled all the gear
a bit better and the trip to the clubhouse was quick. The OL’s were
arriving in steady fashion as we unloaded the bus. Hugs, introductions and
a sense of impending doom were shared for the next hour as we all got sorted
away with our individual hosts. We were originally scheduled to run through
a joint training session with the OL’s at 7:30pm that night. It was only
5pm and we simply couldn’t sit around for 2 and a half hours waiting for
this to happen. After discussions with them, to make sure we weren’t
stepping on toes, we decided to do our own run around, get a sweat out of
the way after a long day of traveling and start drinking their beer. All
the players put the boots on and we ran through warm-ups and about 45min of
some ugly, but much needed touch rugby. All in all, just what the doctor
ordered. We all went our separate ways with our respective hosts to get
settled in, meeting back at the clubhouse at 7:30pm for pints and to watch
the OL’s prepare for their league match on Saturday. The pints continued to
flow at the club, the keg costumes were returned and shared with the OL’s,
with folks filtering out around 10pm for more at the Merchant’s Inn, which
stopped serving at midnight. At this point some headed to the local dance
clubs to frolic with the locals, while others headed for a quick curry
before hitting the hay. We still had the big nights ahead of us after all.

*Friday 3/20 - Golf or Warwick Castle AND U-20 Champion England V Scotland @
Sixways Stadium in Worcester*
Again, the tourist groups split for the day, but that was after the majority
of us met up at 9am at the Clubhouse and exchanged a few stories while
looking forward to the day ahead. The golfers had a great day with the
English handling the Americans in the unofficial Ryder Cup. A new traveling
trophy was handed to the victors during award presentations on Saturday.
Word on the street is that many pints were consumed and shots (booze not
golf) were required at more than one hole during the competition. The most
outlandish story I heard was that one of the younger OL’s decided it was too
hot for clothes so stripping down and jumping into the pond was totally
understandable. Why not?

The other group hopped the bus for Warwick and the Castle tour. Some toured
the castle longer than others, while others made it through as quickly as
possible so they could be early for the pints at the designated meeting
place of the Oak Inn where the feed was on and the beer garden was open.
Great times there as we warmed up for the evening to come in the only
fashion we know how. The golfers, castle tourists and OLs that actually had
to work that day, it was Friday after-all, met at the Clubhouse for the
buses to Worcester around sometime or another. I remember the sun was still
up, so I’m going to say it was 6ish. By all accounts, even though well
stocked with beer, both buses were packed but fairly quiet for the hour long
journey to Worcester. That wouldn’t be the same on the return trip.

What a stadium, what a match, what a great event! The OL’s took superb care
of us at this match, securing a private area at midfield, perched above the
action in a large room, wrapped in glass, providing our our very own private
bar. What could possibly go wrong? Folks filtered in and out through the
glass doors between the private outdoor seating area and the room which was
broadcasting the action live on Sky TV. Again, a perfect event put on by
wonderful hosts. Back on the bus!!!! 10:30pm or find your own way back.
This was an exercise in herding cats, but everyone made it. As one would
expect, the ride was a bit more lively, as those on my bus found the
microphone. It was time to sing after all and it was important for everyone
to hear every last harmonic verse. While our bus found the microphone, the
other bus found the emergency exit door and tried opening it traveling at
90KPH on the M1 (or something). Apparently the driver finds this to be a
bit of a hazard and pulled over immediately to secure the bus and its
occupants. More songs, more pints and the buses dropped us off directly in
front of the Merchant’s Inn pub. Now, this was the pub that closed at
midnight the evening before, so how bad could it have gotten? Well, it did
close at midnight Friday night as well…to the general public at least.
The OL’s secured the back room of the Merchant’s where many revelers lasted
until well after 3am playing Spoof with the OL’s, downing shots and
generally ensuring that the next day would be as difficult as possible for
everyone involved.

*Saturday 3/21 - Match Day that turned into Sunday and then we woke up in
Minneapolis*
The tourists faced an interesting challenge Saturday morning, at least a
vast majority of us, that was packing everything up from our host’s home,
getting that to the pitch and settling in for the match, the festivities,
and then a Sunday morning bus departure at 7:30am.

The Old Laurentian Vets took on the Metropolis Touring Old Boys at 1pm under
perfect conditions with the sidelines packed. I swear that a number of the
OL’s Vets could still make their First XV if they wanted to. It was a high
level of play with the boys in blue giving it their all, but the OL’s coming
out on top in the score, but nobody lost. Great to see all those familiar
faces doing battle, exchanging tackles, then hugs and then pints. At 2pm
the Old Laurentian First XV took on a league opponent on the main field. A
massive crowd gathered with everyone cheering loudly for our Old Laurentian
brothers, much to the dismay and confusion of the other team who simply
couldn’t stand up to the pace and skill of the OL’s. Congratulations on the
victory and good luck the rest of the season to the First XV!

3:30pm….Tourists versus Old Laurentian Second XV, finally some competition
for this weary group of travelers who journeyed 4,000 miles not just to
drink beer but to play some rugby! In the end, the skill, quick ball
movement and strategic kicking of the OL’s was just too much for us to
handle. The Metropolis forward pack did great with crashing runs and strong
rucking a must in order to keep the game competitive. Speaking of
competition, our very own Mark Dalton won the competition for most romantic
move on tour as, at half time, with everyone gathered at midfield directly
in front of the stands, he proposed to Ms. Kristin Lund to much applause and
confetti. It was a touching moment, captured on film, and we all
congratulate the both of them and wish them the very best. Anyway, we lost
the match 24-14 or something like that. Both sides were clearly spent
afterwards and ready to catch up to the Vets and First XV in the pint
category. After one of the longest tunnels in history that’s exactly what
we did! To the clubhouse! Shower, a little towel snapping, a few “don’t
laugh, the water is cold”, and it was time for full cowboy gear and to
strategize the best way to make sure you didn’t fall asleep in the clubhouse
and risk getting monkeyed with. In the mean time, crowds gathered around
the TVs to watch the Irish secure the Six Nations Championship, live and in
dramatic fashion. We need more rugby on TV here!!!

Awards presentations were eventful to say the least, many thank-yous from
both sides with Chris Babiash presenting the OL’s with several things, one a
framed photo of both teams when they were here a few years ago and a
chainsaw carved hunk of tree with the Metropolis “M” shield, beautiful. In
exchange we were given a very rare framed photo of Rugby College, we were
told that it was one of only 4 in existence, a very original and special
gift from our friends. The OL’s decided it was time to send off their
American visitors…well, kind of, Big Gay Dan, Chris Reed & The Kid (who’s
name escapes me now) squared off against Super Joe, Anton, and JD in a
wicked game named Roxanne. Think Police, 3 pints a piece, a race, horrible
singing and you’ll be just about there. Wrapped that up with the match
captains, Dave Longrigg and myself doing the quick thank-yous and exchanges
and naming Isaac Johnson as Metropolis’ Man-of-the-Match. Ike performed
superbly in the forwards and stepped up to the challenge when he was tapped
to fill in at center as the game wore on, well done. Now that all the
public speaking is done, the beer really started flowing, the pig roast was
ready and the band kicked it into full gear. Andy Renner found a job
shoveling out paella to folks after they got their sandwiches.

Running of the Buoys…well, it was more of a sprint, then jog, then a bit
of a run, then utter failure. In dramatic, American Idol style fashion, we
lined all tour buoys up on the sideline (I believe there were 19) and
narrowed the group down to 5 equally qualified candidates: Nathan “Boris”
Watters, Kyle “Don’t pick me for Buoy” Rooney, Mark “Really, I just got
engaged” Dalton, Tex “Tex” Tex, and Adam “6 for 8″ Dilley. The winners were
Rooney, Tex and Diley. Dalton got away with being Richard of the Day and
Watters just had to wear a stupid jester hat. Why? Because. In an
unprecedented move all three sponsors, Super Joe, JD and Anton, went down
before all three buoys went down. Roxanne was a bit rough on them. Both
the sponsors and the horses ran a good race, but the odds were stacked
against them. In the end, Kyle Rooney won the race, basically lapping all
competitors in the process. Well done.

The rest of the night was what you might expect, some people found their way
home for some rest, others hid throughout the clubhouse to sleep with one
eye open, but a good majority stayed, drank, sang, told stories, drank some
more and watched the sun come up over the pitch. There were a few times
throughout the night/morning where we took “Last Man Standing” photos,
looking forward to seeing those. My favorite one, however, was at about 6am
as we assembled under the posts for one final shot as Deano serenaded the
group in a rendition of “Minneapolis Walks On Water”, cheers Deano. I
figure once the bus arrives it’s time to change days in this email….

*Sunday 3/22 - Travel Home*
Most, but not all, goodbyes were said prior to the bus’ arrival at 7:30am
for the trip down to Heathrow. Slaps on the back, promises to see each
other again in 2011 with the OL’s giving their version of the Long Minnesota
Goodbye and the bus is off. The laughter and stories lasted for about 10min
on the bus, then silence. The rest of the day lacks any real explanation:
bus, airport, plane, airport, home, bed.

What a trip. Again, many more stories to share as we all meet at Legend’s
or on the pitch in the next few weeks. I’m sure I left plenty of things
out, but seriously, the email was far too long already. Thank you to the
OL’s, thank you to all who made the tour possible and thank you to the
resilience of the human body to bounce back from such abuse.

**