May 7, 2018


THE SCENE: Absolute perfection in the burbs. 60ish. Not a cloud in the sky despite overnight thunderstorms. (The Weather Q deserves a raise, while we’re on the topic.)

The Warm-O-Rama took longer than expected and longer than usual as half the PAX parked at the football field and the other half parked in the back of the Levee *despite* QIC giving *at least* 3 minutes’ advance notice on GroupMe. Perhaps people will park in the right spot when Comz converts to Slack, but I doubt it.

The first 6 minutes (give or take) were a total cluster, largely because of QIC’s tardy communication – this one is on me, guys. The few PAX who parked in the correct location did SSH’s, arm circles, and what-not for a couple minutes. Then Wide Right barreled into the general area of Warm-O-Rama in his small, blue rental car. *As an aside, I hate that he was involved in the accident that precipitated the need for said rental, but it is a little funny seeing a 6’5 280ish lb guy crawl out of a tiny clown car three mornings every week.

Wide Right informed us that “there are at least 5 or 6  guys in the back of the park, but I knew it couldn’t be the right spot because there wasn’t a shovel flag.” We took a capri lap to wait for said PAX to wise up on startex location then moseyed to the football field.

YHC had a good beatdown planned out that involved a lot of running. I mean – a LOT of running. But then I woke up at 2 am and couldn’t go back to sleep. As I watched reruns of Naked and Afraid on Discovery or whatever channel that program comes on, it dawned on me that running sucks and we should do something fun and challenging for the beatdown instead of something that totes sucks. Like most great ideas, a new concept was born at 2 am watching naked people evade bears and rhinos while being followed by a camera crew.

And so, in a tired haze fueled by reality tv and snack cakes, the rules of F3OTBALL were written. A sport was born. (It’s at least more a sport than #notasport whose traditional name shall not be written in this text).

F3OTBALL is a lot like American football, but instead of conventional scoring and flow, F3 methods and constructs dictate both pace of play and penalties/rewards.

PAX divided into two teams. YHC should have understood the confusion with the parking snafu when PAX couldn’t even number themselves off correctly before the game. We eventually figured out how to count to “1” or “2” correctly and Cheesesteak, being the group’s ultimate athlete as defined by the APFT, called all-time QB as we had an odd number.

Almost immediately, Wide Right giddily ordained that the game be contested using “shirts and skins” delineation of teams. Before anyone could really even respond or complain, his shirt was removed and flying through the air toward the sideline. After some mumblechatter, everyone else on his team dutifully removed their shirt. Everybody except for one, that is. YHC won’t name names, but the PAX whose name rhymes with “Slots” refused to go shirtless. Maybe it’s because he has a third nipple? Maybe he’s concealing a Chinese symbol tattoo he got in college? Maybe he saw that everyone else on his team had pudgy mid-sections and didn’t want to body-shame us? We may never know, but eventually the irony was palpable that the best athlete on the “skins” team was the only one who wouldn’t remove his shirt and show off the guns.


**Teams begin possession at midfield. Line to gain for a first down is the 25 yard line. If a team gains a first down, they get a new set of downs and the defense must do 25 American Hammers.

**Anytime the ball touches the ground, whether by a dropped pass, fumble, or other general clumsiness, all PAX must do 10 merkins. (We did a lot of merkins, y’all.)

**A touchdown results in 7 points for the offense and 10 burpees for the defense.

**Any turnover or turnover on downs results in a lap around the field for the offense.

**Other rules were created/forgotten/made up on the spot by QIC as needed.

About 5 minutes (and appx 50 merkins) in, it was obvious most F3 Memphis PAX must have played basketball or something, because the Levee – despite being current holders of the coveted Collierville Cup – collectively possesses hands of steel. Even relaying the ball back in without dropping it was a challenge.

Final Score from Whatever-Houston-High’s-Field-Is-Called: 
Skins (and Slots): 28
Shirts: 0

Mary’s advances were spurned today. Maybe another time, sister.

11 PAX: Slots, Wide Right, Money Bags, Cheesesteak, Doppleganger, Slicnut, Meter Maid, Roots, Harry Caray, Backseat


“Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. “Honor your father and mother”—which is the first commandment with a promise— “so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.” Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭6:1-4‬ ‭NIV‬‬
YHC has been reading through Ephesians and was convicted by this passage of Scripture. Even though we may be out from our parent’s roof, we are still called to honor our parents. There’s no condition placed on this in terms of stopping at any time, but there is a promise associated with it. (Is there an F3 term for parents, by the way? If not, might be time to coin something.) Also, as parents of children, let’s make it a focus to train them and teach them rather than chastising them. It’s easy with little ones for my patience to wear thin, but if I expect my Heavenly Father to show me grace, shouldn’t I afford that to my children also?

YHC hopes the PAX enjoyed today’s festivities. It was a little spur-of-the-moment (read: my way of rationalizing controlled chaos and poor organization), but I enjoyed myself changing things up a little. QIC’s fitness watch read nearly 4 miles when all was said and done, so we still got the work done even if it was a little unorthodox.