Space-Time Continuum Troubles are Over

For those of you who haven't been out to play lately, the Large Hadron Collider over there in France has, apparently, created some kind of Hawking Radiation, black hole decay-related "wrinkle in time" that has wreaked havoc on our game. Some crazy feces (censorship for Pete "Clean Blog a.k.a. Big Wuss" Farquhar) went down.

Space-time trouble # 1:
Some people from a parallel universe--a space-time thread similar to our own in which the Rotters are younger, faster, and more attractive than the ones in this space-time thread--started showing up at our game. They were nice and all (they really were. And hot, too), but they made our numbers 30+, not to mention stretching the very fabric of reality to the point of breaking. The problem was resolved before any major vortices formed. I suspect that our own physicist, Christopher O' Shagnasty himself, intervened from up there in DC at his reactor-thingy.

Space-time trouble #2:
The time-wrinkle is all solved, except for a one-hour lag. For some reason Chris's adjustments made it so that the sun sets an hour earlier. Our response to this will be: START TIME FOR SUNDAY IS NOW 3 PM. Tell the other Rotters.

A Footnote: this article has not yet been sent for peer review. The hypotheses detailed here are speculative.

God of Thunder-0, Rotters-1

The Rotters proved that the old Norse gods equate idiocy with bravery on Saturday when they took to the pitch in the middle of a thunder and lightning storm.

Several Rotters were wise enough to take shelter and wait it out, this reporter included. No gender-insensitive jokes should be made here, however, for although one such "coward" WAS a woman (and I only hid in the cab of a truck in order to more objectively report on events as they unfolded, though the wind and rain quickly turned the windshield scene into something like the front view out of a whitewater raft. It should be noted that Khalifa and Dridi scored goals in the melee), one was the proud father of daughters.

Jesse Helms, recently arrived in the Afterworld and visiting Valhalla, could be heard above the thunder, screaming "kill those liberal [expletive]s!!" Thor rolled his eyes, commented on the ineffectual new belief systems and cushy repentance clauses which allowed men like Helms into the upper regions of the Afterworld, and hurled a thunderbolt a little to the left of the pitch. "You missed on purpose!!" Helms cried.

After Thor backed down in the face of Rotter defiance, the others took the field and braved a soaking rain. Though the true battle was certainly (hu)man vs. nature, the wettest team won the day.

Let Us Eat Squirrel

It isn't surprising that we have been challenged by the Chapel Hill Tobacco Squirrels. They have nothing to lose, and we are ancient and benevolent champions. Chris says they are mostly girls, which leads some of us to imagine something like this:



That would be intimidating, but the truth is that the tarheel lady-rats are nothing to capital city scoundrels like us. So what if they have political connections and a winning basketball team? Word is they have been talking some shit; should we take out a page in the Herald Sun? It probably only costs like $10. What else can we do but show up, crush their dreams, and rip down the unicorn posters off of their walls. We should play an upside-down Christmas tree with Hamza in goal and Suleman the lone defender. Then maybe they would learn to fear the mighty and treacherous RRR. With that said we better not lose. Especially at Lion's. . .

Germans Sell Van of Freedom, Flee Country

The Van of Freedom. At first glance, just another late twentieth century Detroit design failure. But if you squint just a little, you can see the red and blue stripes across the white background, some stars, and perhaps the hint of an eagle's head on the driver's side door. Driven across desert, prarie, and fruited plains, it broke down only occasionally, and Mormons were always on hand to push it out of the ditch. It runs smoothly, except between 35 and 55 mph, but what matter a few knocks and pings when you are riding in the lap of Liberty.

But then it was time for the Grabingers to return to the Old World-- time to pawn off this John Wayne of family vehicles. Blue Book value? $3,400, as Sam has told us all dozens of times. That boy sure knows his Blue Book. Even at this bargain price, the American People would not buy. Like TS Elliot and David Hasselhoff, the Van of Freedom is under-appreciated in its native land. The price fell to $1,800. Buyers tried to negotiate exotic leveraged purchase deals using transatlantic remittances. Sam stood by his car and his price. Finally, with one day left before the Great Immigration, he caved. $1,350, to a man from Angier. Detroit weeps. What's worse, Sam will soon convert these honest greenbacks into "Euros," some multi-colored form of money invented by Belgians.

Weep not, Rotters. We will see them soon, here, there, or perhaps at a neutral location like Iceland. They have bars there. The Atlantic Ocean is but a puddle within the confines of the ever expanding Rotter Empire.

Germans Have 7th Going Away Party

We gathered once more at the Grabinger estate in bucolic Johnston County. It was the same as it always has been, except different. An illusionist set up in the garage, doing his dark work, the devil's artisan come to deceive fuzzy Rotter minds. He made cards appear. He made them disappear. He made Mike's cigarette disappear. He made other stuff appear and disappear. He made people come up with stupid theories about how he did it all. We were confused, and we liked it.

Then, a new honorary Rotter named Tinker began to stoke the fire with diesel, an old Johnston County fire tending trick. You can just barely see him in the picture above, given his stealthy use of camouflage. Tinker would occasionally drift in from the woods, throw some petrochemical on the fire, and the melt away back into the wilderness. Was he too a devil's artisan?

Such was the 7th or perhaps 8th going away party for the glorious Grabingers. The meat, the beer, Brian, the pretzels, the large drinking vessels. This was one last party in their honor, if you don't count the four or five others that would happen in the weeks ahead. Our hearts will miss you, but our livers will be glad to see you go.

Rotter Bowl One Article, Business Cliche Version

(standard English version further down in blog)

Responding to first quarter market changes, RRR LLC re-branded its Sunday pickup game as "Rotter Bowl I," a high-potential entrepreneurial concept that will be leveraged into game-changing innovation in the recreational sports submarket space.  RRR positioned its new brand by leveraging pre- and post-game beer to enhance the consumer experience.  The Rotters showed that they can move nimbly within the superstructure of this new space, leveraging their entrepreneurial re-branding to enhance their positioning in the global marketplace going forward.  At the end of the day, the learnings from this spinoff venture will be leveraged to inform future startups, and will produce extensive new-media and old-media content to build brand recognition and loyalty.

What Might Have Happened at Rotter Bowl I

Skillful play.  Stunning acts of athleticism.  Mind-boggling goals.  These things might have happened at the historic first Rotter Bowl, held February 17th, 2008 CE.

Several innovative Rotters met before the game at Rotter Aly and Rotter Enabler Beth's house, to test the theory that holding a victory celebration before the game would guarantee a victory for at least one side.  How can a victory not result, if it has already been celebrated?  This type of logic persisted for the entire day, and in fact the hallmark of the cunning Rotter Mind.

Rotter Bowl was unique among Rotter/Bloody Mary Sunday games, in that a "score" was kept and one team "won" by accumulating more points than the other team.  There was initially some debate whether the greater or lesser score should prevail, but it was decided that neither golf nor Uno were being played, and thus the higher total should carry the day.

There were other anomalies.  Each team almost wore the same color.  There were costumes-- pimp, redneck, semi-formal guy, wigged-Aly, strangely-dressed Ty.  The field was almost full size.  The goal was full size and rectangular, in contrast to the traditional rhombus-shaped undersized goals favored at Lions Park.  Lions Park was abandoned for the day, in favor of the Dix Landfill Mound.  And, there were numerous spectators.  (What were they thinking?)

Who in fact "won?"  Why, the Cynical Hobos, probably 7-4, over the Apathetic Mimes.  Charles, Chris and this reporter scored for the Horrible Hobos.  Other people score also, for both teams.  The ball was kicked into the woods several times.  People went and got it.  Jeff explored the bounds of goalkeeping using innovative "Soccer 2.0" methods, moving up to, and in fact past, midfield on occasion.  Was it even goalkeeping?  It's so paradigm-shifting we don't even have a word for it.  And, there were awards and a continued victory celebration after the game.  

Other stuff probably happened as well, and it was momentous stuff, but I don't remember it.  But we will always remember at least part of Rotter Bowl I as a memorable day in the foggy annals of Rotter history.

Pictures are below.  I appear in several of them and I look happy.  Others can be found elsewhere on the "internet" in various Buckets of Photos.  Thank you once again for your readership.

RB I pictures

Just a few pics of the first annual rotterbowl. GOODBYE GRABINGERS. WE HARDLY GOT DRUNK WITH THEE (or so it seems now that you are leaving). I have some other pics of some of you guys but my camera wasn't in night-time kegger mode so they are blurry. 76

Rotter Bowl I to host referee from Hell

Although prior to his hiring last month there was some uncertainty as to where Ref Zubi originated, two Rotters overheard him tell an inquisitive stranger that he is "from Hell" late Thursday night.
The stranger, making polite conversation in gratitude to Ref. Zubi's generous funding of his crack habit, told him that he "liked his accent", and followed with "Where you from, man?" Upon hearing his reply, one Rotter pressed him to reveal what part of Hell he was from, but Ref Zubi declined to answer, instead steering the conversation to something completely unrelated.
It is unclear whether Ref Zubi's regional loyalties will affect his judgement in the highly anticipated game on Sunday. When asked to speak on his authority to make fair decisions, his response was that he planned to ref "like a fascist democratic president of America".

Rotter Bowl: Too Much Hype?

All around the nation, people are asking: is there too much hype surrounding the Rotter Bowl?

In an attempt to more accurately gauge public opinion, our survey staff posed this question to 40 hard-working, freedom-loving Americans, passers-by selected completely at random and pictured below. Startlingly, our statistically significant and wholly unbiased sample audience agreed 37 to 3 that Rotter Bowl I will, without question, be the greatest event in the history of sport, freedom and/or beer drinking, perhaps only to be surpassed by Rotter Bowl II. Based on this survey, it is estimated that approximately 92.5% (plus or minus a 3% margin of error) of the American public feel this way -- an overwhelming majority.

It should be noted that one survey subject did not respond verbally, but rather made growling noises while chewing on a piece of rawhide. However, our survey team interpreted this a positive response.

The message is clear: America loves the Rotter Bowl!