White/Gray Team Defeats Black/Orange/Red/Green/Blue/Gray Team 1-0

A bright clear spring day, Lions Park, Sunday afternoon, 4pm. The designated start time for the Rotters weekly pickup game. Absolutely no one is around.

4:25pm: Two sub-compact cars, early 1990s vintage, pull up. Drivers sit inside, feet up on dash, listening to old metal, perhaps Ronnie James Dio. After a few minutes, they exit and begin desultory kicking around of a dog-bitten ball. They complain that no one ever shows up on time, a right they have earned by showing up only 25 minutes late.

4:35 to 5:15pm: Eleven more sub-compact cars, early 1990s vintage, pull up. Drivers exit and join desultory kicking around of the dog-bitten ball. A conversation begins, involving comparison of hangovers. Ed Shred claims mightiest hangover, Jeff W makes a counter-claim. Pete F is not present, and is thus not eligible to win. The matter is left unresolved. Four intrepid Rotters begin carrying and assembling of goals, which appear to be constructed from a dog kennel that was destroyed by a tornado. With some effort, the goals are balanced in a precarious upright position and are covered with old crabbing nets. A few Rotters enjoy pre-game cigarettes, dogs are tied to fences, and it is generally decided that it’s time to start.

5:15 to 5:25pm: A ten-minute debate ensues about the division of teams. It is decided that white and gray shirts should be on one team, with diversely-colored shirts forming the opposing team. Inexplicably, Zubi chooses the color team, even though his shirt is gray. Someone points this out and is ignored. Will shows up wearing an orange shirt, throwing off the carefully balanced teams, so Charles changes to white. Zubi remains on the colored team. Someone kicks the ball and the “game” ensues.

5:25 to 6:17pm: The first half is action-packed. JP makes repeated charges up the left wing, but Tobin repeatedly charges out to meet him, using second base as a second defender. Hamza scores between 15 and 20 goals. Everyone else pretty much watches. Danica shows up wearing a gray shirt, causing Suleman to put on his red shirt and switch teams. Zubi stays with the diversely-colored team. A dog runs on the field. Mike makes a brilliant charge up the middle, falls, and injures at least one of his legs. He limps to the sideline for a combined recuperation/smoking break. Kate shows up wearing a blue shirt, Suleman puts his white shirt back on and switches teams. Charles charges up the right wing, breaks free when Will falls down, misses the open goal and cries out in existential angst. The Rotters compete with each other to best imitate the outburst. Charles tells everyone to fuck off and sits down to have a snack. Mike rejoins the game, limping slightly. Hamza scores again and a water break is called by mutual consent.

6:17 to 6:31pm: Everyone takes a break except for Erin, who takes 47 shots on goal, and Aly, who stops 46 of them.

6:32 to 7:14pm: The second half begins slow and sloppy and becomes slower and sloppier as the evening wears on. Hamza only scores 8 goals. Mike falls again and injures at least one more extremity. Charles has another angst/snack break. A dog runs on the field. Everyone except Tobin stops running. Tobin stops running. The beer goal is proclaimed. Tobin scores the beer goal, even though he doesn’t drink beer. The final score is declared to be 1-0.

7:15 to 7:25pm: A ten-minute debate ensues about the venue for after-game beers. Several yearn for Horniblows, which is closed. Sadlacks? No, too upscale since the renovation, practically a wine bar. Players Retreat? A fine and worthy bar, but not the choice for this evening. Back to Mojo’s it is. The porch beckons—bring me your injured, your sweaty, your quasi-athletic smokers.

7:32 to 8:27pm: Beers at Mojo’s. The usual enlightened conversation and debate. It is mutually decided that George Bush, TASL, softball players, and the Capital City Market suck. Any fitness benefit from the day’s frolic is cured with the antidote of beer and cigarettes. Then the Rotters, in varying states of injury and inebriation, drift away to their scattered weekday lives.

Addendum and corrections, in response to unsolicited feedback: At approximately 6:25, Long Lost Rotter Jacob drove up in a battered Land Rover that he stole from Jane Goodall. Rotter Nation had given up on the plucky fullback, assuming that his break-dancing toe injury was career-ending. But Jacob is never afraid to return to play, especially if it's too early and there is a high risk of re-injury. Many Rotters cried. A spontaneous parade ensued, and even some softball players joined in. And then, after Charles switched to a white shirt since Jacob was wearing a black shirt, play resumed.

It should be noted that Chris Clemmons was present, having caught an early flight from Chapel Hill. He was looking particularly well groomed and his play was at all times exceptional.

It should also be noted that the evil game of softball was being played on all of the softball fields at Lions Park, causing the Rotters to wander around like wandering Rotters. Softballs rained down like mortar rounds, causing Captain Mike to flash back to his nightmarish days in the Mekong Delta in 1967. He stripped naked and ran around reciting lines from Apocalypse Now, Director's Cut. But the Rotters talked him down and helped him get dressed again, and play resumed.

Rotter Iraq Study Group Issues Recommendations

January 16-- After weeks of worldwide anticipation, the Rotters International Football and Foreign Affairs Society has issued its recommendations to for a "new way forward" for American involvement in Iraq (or is it Iran? we always get confused.) The prognostication comes from the Rotters Iraq Study Group, a multi-partisan panel of Democrats, Socialists, Anarchists, Surrealists, Whigs, and Apathetic Drunks. The plan is sure to receive worldwide attention (ie-- at least on guy in England might read them, as well as a prominent Qatarwegian academic.)

Here is the 32-point plan:

1. An "escalating surge" of 10-20 more soldiers and marines (a .00001% increase), to clear and hold neighborhoods in Baghdad. This has the same probability of success as sending 21,000, with a much lower cost.

7. A "de-escalating un-surge" or 140,000 soldiers and marines. The guys from point one will be pissed off when they find out.

5. Diplomatic missions to Syria and Iran. This will solve everything. They have always been super nice and helpful. We will bring pandas kind of like the Chinese did with us in the 70's. Syrians dig pandas.

21. Make lots of generalizations about Shiites and Sunnis.

17. Make some generalizations about the Kurds while we're at it.

3. Fire Gates, Snow, Cheney, Rumsfeld again, Rice, and the rest of the Bush cabinet once we find out their names.

8. Send 72,000 troops back in, then take 30,000 out, then send in 10,000, then pull out 40,000, then send in 8,000, then pull out 20,000. How many troops does that leave? What color are their uniforms? Explain your answer.

32. Send a diplomatic mission the the Israelis. Ask them how we can make peace in the region. Do the exact opposite of what they say.

9. Repeat step 8 with the Palestinians.

16. Ask Tom Waits what to do. That guy is cool.

12. Send in Oprah, Bono, Angelina, Madonna, and Sally Strothers (old school.) That will annoy them. Make sure Madonna doesn't steal any babies.

29. Think of a euphemism for the troop pull-out. Redeployment? Creative Cowardice? Proactive Surrender? What the Fuck Else Are We Supposed To Do?

13. Next time, invade a nicer country. That's a pretty damn ugly country. I'm just saying.

24. Learn the lessons of Vietnam-- make sure you forget everthing in thirty years and make up some bogus reason to invade another country. Act suprised and outraged when it doesn't work out.

27. Bring in some Pentagon counter-insurgency experts. They've always been really good at counter-insurgency.

30. Think of some more points, quick. Maybe have a contest where people send in points and we make a Super Bowl commercial out of the best ones.

23. Mix up the numbers so noboby knows that you couldn't think of enough steps.

Reached for comment, President Bush has stated that he is considering all options, even ones that are stupider than his own. He likes the part about the pandas.

Rotter Pong

The Royal Raleigh Rotters Football and Beer Sport Society has embraced a new form of bar athletics-- the ancient and honorable sport of "table tennis" or "ping pong."

Just as Americans turned the priggish games of rugby and cricket into the noble sports of football and baseball, the Rotters have transformed ping pong into Rotter Pong.

In Figure A, Cap'n Mike illustrates the correct stance and equipment for the new sport. Feet shoulder width apart, paddle grasped firmly in ponging hand, cigarette in non-ponging hand. Soccer cleats must, naturally, be worn at all times. But wait, you ask, cleats are not ideal, perhaps even hazardous, on the slick and hard bar floor. Ah yes, an added degree of difficult from which Rotters do not shy. Captain Mike busted his ass just after this photo was taken, and yet he ponged on with renewed vigor and determination. Yes, we have found a new way to injure ourselves.

Notice please that the beer is never held during play, but instead rests safely on the chest-high beer/ashtray shelf behind the player (beer not visible in Figure A, as it is safely in its appointed resting place).

And what are the regulations of this Rotter Pong contest? There are, of course, no rules. Occasional long quasi-legal volleys mix with frequent short and incompetent spurts of play interspersed with convivial conversation. Number of bounces are often ignored. Play is sometimes aggressive. People fall. People try to quit so they can drink beer in peace. Williford yells a lot. In short, it differs little from a Sunday game of Rotter Soccer.

Please join us every Sunday at approximately beer-thirty for Rotter Pong at the new and improve Horniblows Lounge, Somewhere, Raleigh, NC.

The Mighty Albeit Oppressed Scottish Nation, As Represented by Celtic FC, Triumph Over Their English Oppressors, As Represented By Manchester United

In 1745, we were defeated on the bloody fields of Culloden (pictured left). They took away our land. They took away our bagpipes. We got very drunk, passed out behind the pub, and woke up in a pool of our own pish. But Tuesday night, we of the proud Scottish Nation had our revenge at Glasgow's Celtic Park. In thrilling UEFA Champions League action, Celtic FC drove the over-paid, over-rated Manchester United Red Devils from the field in the obliterating 1-nil victory of the millenium.

With a spectacular bending 30-yard free kick goal by a Scotsman named Nakamura (it's an old Highland name), the men in stripey green turned the football universe on its head. But wait! An English foe is never so easily conquered. The conniving ref cooked up a bogus handball call, handing a penalty kick to the Prince-Charles-loving, Wham-listening boys in red. But gaelic righteousness once again prevailed, with a heroic save by another pure-bred son of Scotland, goalkeeper Artur Boruc.

The Celtic victory is already being called a turning point in the great hangover that is Scottish history. The redcoats were replaced with red AIG logo shirts and the Scotsmen wore pants, but it was yet another battle in the long war against the nation of Boy George and Benny Hill. From Belfast to Basra, those that suffer under the yoke of Saxon hegemony raised their heads with new hope. So join the proud people of Glasgow, sing a song of liberty, drink 17 pints, smoke 27 cigarettes, and wake up behind the pub in a pool of your own pish. For one night, taste the bitter glory of Scottish destiny.

But we can still rise now,
And be the nation again,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

*** THIS IS A TEST OF THE EMERGENCY ROTTCAST SYSTEM ***

CLICK THE STOP BUTTON ON YOUR BROWSER TO STOP THE SIREN BEFORE YOU GO CRAZY

When a game is cancelled, or if a game we thought was cancelled is back on again, this siren will sound the alarm to the RRR past, present, future, imaginary, drunk, and gone fishin'. This just in: our final game of the season was just cancelled. I am not sure, but I think that all 3 of our wins came from forfeits. Final record for fall 2006: 3-2-2 and only one visit to Horniblows.
**********************************

Replacement Rotters Rock

Upon reflection, I was annoyed by this post. So, I deleted it. But, I will leave up this picture of Walter Mondale. Long may he reign.

Rotter Naughties Go Nautical

Befuddled by schedule changes, blog censorship, debated forfeits, and general low morale, the Rotters took a wrong turn on the way to TASL's latest stop-gap venue and just kept driving. When the caravan--headed up by "Was-it-you" Williford--finally stopped, they found a field with even less grass than WRAL. The upside? An OCEAN on one sideline.

"I really like the longshore wind factor, too," commented defense demigod Jacob Osten. "When the ball goes out of bounds, we get a long breather." O-Shag-nessy, whose middle syllable proved prophetic (he "shagged" almost every windbourne ball) begged to differ.

Rotter "Potty-mouth" McKinney tried to keep the language clean. Other Rotters listened with furrowed brows as she shouted "Holy feces, good pass!" and confusion reigned when she angrily shouted "Sexual intercourse with you, then!" when Cullinan blocked her shot. "I don't care if I don't sound tough as feces anymore," she responded when asked about her new linguistic choices,"No-one can trace ugly language back to myself or my teammates. And besides, I just feel better about myself. Talking clean is having-intercourse awesome."

The Rotters won every game they played on the new field. As beach-house hero Williford put it: "It's hard to lose when you're playing with yourself." Combined with victory over a beach house puzzle, "happy cake" by Williford and Ann-Katherin, and a win for the University of Tennessee american football team (a uniform change has been proposed for the Rotters--Manning will knit vests; see picture), the adventure provided a much-needed morale boost.

Rotter Men In Triathlon Also, And We Don't Use Naughty Words In Our Headlines

Not to be outdone by esteemed teammate Danica Bananica, several male Rotters will compete in Raleigh's 11th annual Surreal-A-Thon. The gruelling contest of wills begins with a 13-hour-long game of drunken curling, involving sliding and falling and not knowing the rules, similar to our experiences inthe Coed C League.

Howdy, pard'ner! Should the Boy Rotters survive the first hazardous and stupid event, it's time to mosey on over to Dorten Arena for drunken bull riding. Rotters can injure themselves walking onto a soccer field, so there should certainly be some trips to the hospital for the weak-minded but determined cowpokes in black. We are the rootin'est tootin'est soccer team in Raleigh, so we are sure to find a home on the Raleigh range, playing with deers and antelopes, seldomly hearing discouraging words, and tumbling like tumbleweeds. And I have run out of bad cowboy puns, so it's on to the next event.

Rotters are not really good with numbers or letters, but we sure know our colors really really well. Are you proud of us? The third event, Full-Contact Candyland, should be a walk in the candycane forest for the Sugar Plum Rotters. Kicking, punching, and full-body checking are all in bounds in this contest of strength and intellect. Yes, a few good men will get stuck in the Gooey Gumdrop Swamp. Only one will survive to rescue the Lollipop Queen, and thusly be declared the Surrealist Triathlon Champion. Do we have what it takes? Probably not.

More Evidence that Rotter Women are Tough as Shit

On Saturday, September 30th, founding Rotter Danica Cullinan (on academic leave this season)will participate in the Wilmington YMCA Triathlon. Though she has held the title for years, Cullinan is not content to rest on her laurels as baddest-ass bad-ass inside the beltline. She continues to add to her resume, making sure none of us have any hope of catching up with her. The triathlon begins at 8AM and includes an ocean swim, a flat-out run, and a sure-to-have-headwind bike ride. After she's done, she's headed to Clayton for Oktoberfest beers, where she's sure to outdrink many of us who sat on our not-as-bad-assed asses all day long. Check out her route at theses sites:
http://www.set-upinc.com/rp5/wilming/swim.pdf
http://www.set-upinc.com/rp5/wilming/bike.pdf
http://www.set-upinc.com/rp5/wilming/Wilmington%20run%20course.htm

PATERNITY TESTS REVEALED! Lowy Blamed Again

Siberia, UK: Following banishment to Siberia, Former Royal Raleigh Rotter Jon Lowy is now being blamed for something other than the usual 'everything'. The resemblance is undeniable, and now DNA tests have proven that Mr. Lowy did in fact father the lovechild of Chris Clemmons (RRR #8), thereby making a beautiful bouncing baby su-dog. Reached for comment, the dumurring mother Clemmons had this to say, "SEE! I TOLD YOU HE WAS! Come back 007!!" The tears streamed down his face as the proud mother told of the harrowing trip across the frozen continent to see his beloved Lowy-kins.
This picture was taken by Dr. Leonid Zudenov, the doctor who delivered baby su, beard and all, just 3 months ago. Mr. Lowy is now rumored to be involved with Russian PM Vladimir Putin, as he continues his reckless romp around the planet in exile from Raleigh, NC, leaving bastard children in his wake everywhere he goes. (ed. note: is that too much? ha ha. sorry.)

In a related story, Tobin the Rotter has disappeared and this picture has been put on milk cartons nationwide to help find him. One source claims TtR was spotted in an airport waitiing for a plane to Siberia, MD. Also, Danica the Great recently had her portrait done by one of the finest swashbuckling artists in the Basque region, Sir Pablo Zubicasso.

What Could We Get For TASL Registration Fee? Trans Am Plus 600 beers

Have you been regretting the $1,500 we gave to TASL this year, to pay for randomly scheduled games on crappy, far-away fields? (BTW-- Kudos to captain Mike for dealing with this crap. What is a kud0?)

Have you been wondering what we could have gotten for that $1,500? Here it is. This brown beauty of a 1978 Trans Am is currently listed for $1,000 on Ebay Motors. (this is true) Three words-- Burt F***in' Reynolds.

It's waiting for us in Wake Forest. Full list of features below. Holley Valvecovers! AM and FM! Tape Player! Edelbrock 600 Endurashine Carburetor! You know what that means.

After the Trans Am, we would have $500 left. That's 250 bar beers, or at least 600 glorious store-bought cans. We would not drink them in the car, only near it, perhaps in a 7-11 parking lot while blasting Zeppelin.


The Audacious Auto could be shared among team members, 1-2 days per month, for that special date with that special someone, or at least someone.

List of Features:
VERY solid body, very easy restoration start.
New fuel pump
New plugs
New wires
New hoses
New intake gasket
New carb gasket
Edelbrock 600 Endurashine Carburetor
Edelbrock Torker II Intake
Holley Valvecovers
6X W72 heads
Pioneer AM/FM/Tape
The clock in the dash actually works

We Can Rebuild Him

Wounded Rotter Pete Farquhar has regained hope in his epic battle against injury and self-pity. With the help of modern surgery and remedial education, Farquhar underwent a 12-hour operation to insert a 7th grade shop project into his ankle. It is hoped that the aglomeration of screws and metal will allow Farquhar to return to competitive semi-professional Coed soccer, while also earning an A+ in Metal Shop I for Matthew Sturgeon, Fuquay Varina Middle School, grade 7.

With any luck, the stumbling non-profiteer will be back in action just in time to re-injure himself. In the meantime, the Rotters will soldier on, breaking alcohol prohibitions, breaking bones, break dancing, taking smoke breaks, and continuing to crush and/or tie opposing teams.

Farquhar Out Six Weeks: Rotters Season Over?

Rotter Nation was rocked today by news that Minister of Agitprop/Star Halfback Pete Farquhar will be out 6 weeks with a gruelling, swollen, puss-oozing, bruised lateral ankle sprain. Dr. Sarah DeWitt of Raleigh Foot and Ankle gave the prognosis today, or perhaps the diagnosis, whatever, but anyway she ordered Farquhar to wear annoying support devices for the rest of his natural life.

Rotter Pete will still use his nimble fingers to update these pages at irregular intervals, but there is some question as to his ability to mount the stairs to Horniblows. Will his comrades have to bring him down beers, as he drinks alone in the Minivan of Victory? Time will tell.

Farquhar joins a long Honor Roll of Rotter Wounded, including Jacob (groin, liver), Sam (knees, cardio-vascular system), Carpenter brothers (knees, lungs, sibling rivalry), Charles (something), plus the array of psychological disorders shared by the rest of the squad.

Are the Rotters like the French in '40? Or the French in '54? Or the French in '06? Will they cry, like Roberto Duran, "no mas!"? Does anyone remember Roberto Duran?

No, the Rotters don't even know the meaning of the word "surrender," or, for that matter, of most words with more than two syllables. They will fight to the last man, or the last woman, or perhaps to the last dog tied to the last fence. But they will triumph, or, better yet, tie.

Keeper Dave Flashes a Winning Smile

Even though the Royal Raleigh Rotters succumbed to the dreaded Ligers in a 3-1 loss last evening, keeper Dave Baker was still smiling. Baker put in a spectacular performance, preventing an even more deceivingly lopsided victory by the physically superior, genetically engineered half-lion, half-tiger opposition.

The lone Rotter goal was scored by Kelly Who Is Really Good, who is so really good that she thoroughly confused the Liger keeper on the play by being both in front of and behind him at the same time.

At least two other Rotter goals should have been scored by Ed Shred, at least one other by Kelly, and at least one other brilliant header by Sam should have gone in. Meanwhile, at least two Liger goals should have been called back because that blonde guy was way too all-farm to be defended by a surprisingly slack midfielder Chris "Who Took The Oxygen Out Of The Air?" Clemmons. Clearly, a 5-1 Rotter moral victory.

Also, several mysterious large metal boxes flew over the field, prompting the confused Rotters to periodically run around covering their heads and not pay attention to the ball.

The Persons in Black retired to Morrisville's only bar, Champions I, after the game. Probably for the only time ever, though it wasn't half bad -- for Morrisville.

The "loss" evened out the Rotter Fall '06 record to a pleasingly symmetrical 1-1-1.

Match Fixing Scandal Rocks Elite-PremierCoed C Division

August 23, 2006
After the 1-1 draw vs. hated rivals 'the Farce', the Royal Rotters of Raleigh had to ask each other and the heavens, "Can this really have happened without money changing hands?" As it turns out, the referee of the match was one Jean Claude Froglegs - a known French nationalist with an axe to grind. 'Froglegs the Fixer' as he is known on the other side of the pond, was recently exposed in a BBC article chronicling the Serie A scandal in Italy - and his ties with the powerful Elite-Premier Coed C division run deep. "What are you talking about? There is no conspiracy, and Burlescon- I mean, Mrs. Langdon has nothing to do with Zidane-, I mean Juvent- Rott- whatever- What?" Mr. Froglegs is quoted as saying. It is known that only three seasons ago, the team known now as 'the Farce' was called 'Le France' - pronounced "Lee Frownce". Now I ask you, is this a coincidence? I think not. It is clear to this reporter that the fix is in, and so any loss suffered by the beautiful and merciless RRR this season can only be the result of old-fashioned bribery on the part of shameless Frenchmen who will settle for tainted glory. Ouch. ps. the irony is not lost on this reporter. 76

Rotters Revenge: Trip the Daytrippers

On Tuesday night, many a Rotter brain was filled with nightmarish memories of last year's game vs. the Daytrippers. The gigantic grassy grass field at SAS soccer park. The team with a stupid name that made us run all over the green grassy grass. Having to play in Cary, where the lawns are wide, the minds are narrow, and the bars suck.

There was much Rotter dread when we learned that this year's rematch would be played in "Morrisville", which is just another word for "Cary". Would we once again have to run too much, lose to a stupidly-named team, and then find ourselves stranded in a giant suburb far from any decent tavern?

Alas, the nightmare did not come true for the Rotters this year, but instead befell the downhearted Daytrippers. The final tally was Rotters 5, DTs (who looked more like Wings fans)nil. Goals were scored by Ed Shred, Kelly Who Is Very Good, Mark the Spark, Free Willy Alphin, and someone else, I think Mike. The highlight was a brilliant header by William Alphin, off a stunning cross by Mark the Spark.

Dave was fabulous in goal, mostly because of his Spiderman shirt. He was kicked in the face several times, but felt nothing due to the powers of his super garment. Go get 'em, Spidey.

Only one argument took place, in front of the opposing goal, when the old "Who's your favorite Beatle" debate broke out. I probably don't have to tell you that the Daytrippers are the sort that prefer Paul. The Rotters are , of course, Ringo supporters, and nearly had to back their words with their fists. Luckily, the ref was a George Harrison fan, and was able to broker a peace settlement without bloodshed.

The Daytrippers tried to surrender in the second half, but the Rotters take no prisoners. As the Daytripper defense crumbled, the Rotter goals began to resemble free kicks. It was sad, really.

After the game, the humiliated Daytrippers decided to change their name, with hope that a new moniker would bring back their flagging spirits. At press time, they were still deciding between "The Penny Lanes" and "The Octopus Gardens."

Note: There have been some reports that the Rotters were drinking Killians after the game at a sports bar in a strip mall in Cary. Don't believe a word of it. The Dreaded Drinkers in Black would never do such a thing.

New Trading Cards for the Fall 06 Season

Rotters Are Victorious Supreme Triumphant Superior Winning Crushing Dominant Well-Above-Average Champions of the Premier Elite Coed C-League

TASL has determined that the Royal Raleigh Rotters Ancient and Benevolent Football Society's crushing 8-2 record was sufficient to triumpantly and decisively win the mighty Coed C League. It took TASL officials only 2 months to figure out who had won, understandable since each team payed a mere $1,500 for the privilege of playing.

We get T-shirts.

Plans are afoot for a ticker-tape parade, on either Fayetteville Street, the Champs-Elysees, or Kirby Street.

Do we get a trophy?

What the Rotters certainly do get is the powerful knowledge that we never gave up, we fought until the end, we gave 117%, we left it all out on the field, and we tried pretty hard in most of the games. We also usually showed up sober, and limited our pre-game cigarettes to 2 or fewer. It wasn't easy. Several male Rotters abstained from conjugal relations for the entire season, although it is not clear whether this was entirely by choice.

We are the Steelers without a trophy. We are Lance Armstrong without cancer (yet). We are Italy without diving. We are Rocky. We are invincible. We are woman.

The Rotters are looking forward to the great things that can and will happen in season III, if we didn't screw up and forget to register. More crushing victories? An undefeated record? All is possible for the mighty, mighty, mighty, mighty Rotters.

Can the RRR Survive Without: D Cully, Kate Hate, J-Lowy and O'Shag-nasty?

We will see, at least for one season. In this era of top dollar superstar rosters, the RRR front office must step up its efforts to procure the services of these icons for future seasons. This situation should not be interpereted as anything but a temporary holdout, and Kate Hate jerseys will be available for the opening kickoff of the fall 2006 season. We do not intend to lose the services of our backbone players to other rival teams like the 'Akron Dumpers' or whomever. Do not worry. Also, this blog should not shut down just because we play soccer at Lion's and drink beer somewhat separately afterwards instead of Horniblows on Tuesdays. 76

Rotter National Anthem

Here are the Rotter National Anthem lyrics, as originally written. We departed somewhat from this Saturday. Learn them, live them.

Lyrics: (stream of unconsiousness)

(In the style of Johnny Rotten)

(Starts with driving bass line)

(in comes stereotypical punk guitar lick)

Rot Rot Rotters

Royal Raleigh Rotters

Rot Rot Rotters

Royal Raleigh Rotters

Feel bad on Monday

But feel good on Sunday

That's my fun day

My I don't have to run day!

(chorus)

(bridge)

My leg hurts

My knee hurts

My spleen hurts

My soul hurts!

(chorus)

Blame Lowy Blame Lowy

We play even if its snowy

Blame Lowy Blame Lowy

He sounds like David Bowie!

(chorus)

(abrupt ending, drop mike, smash your bass, vomit)