CSAUP Event of the Year

The BackBlast:

The Thang:
Not a single shovel flag in sight as 28 grisly veterans of the Gloom gathered in one of the more historic sites in the lore of F3, eager to participate in mass nostalgia, to bask in the glow of fellowship with loved ones, and to enjoy Smokey’s crisp cadence call on a perfect spring Saturday morning. Wasting no time for classic Gen X white guy laugh lines like “I guess they let anyone in here these days” and “look what the cat dragged in,” Smokey tore out of the AO at a blistering pace to head down Colony for a Mustang highlight reel like a 2023 Drivin N Cryin concert. The pax was instantly stretched out over a quarter mile, the 6 groaning and griping like they had just heard Kevn Kinney say, “here are a few songs from our new album.” Calls of “FEBA” echoed throughout the pax like “Honeysuckle Blue!” during the encore pause.

After a brief pause – but long enough for Dredd to point out that Smokey’s cadence was as mistimed as a Milli Vanilli live performance – we arrived at the first track of the concert: partner work at Acadia Hill. With Red Warrior’s conspicuous absence from the pax, Smokey briefly contemplated taking the pax all the way to Radcliffe to rouse him from the fartsack. Luckily cooler heads prevailed, and we simply continued to Tranquil for some additional hill work. Partners were intended to go in opposite directions, but Mustang has always been known for its rebellious, if not outright mutinous, pax. Despite the wise words of Walter Sobchak (“this isn’t ‘Nam, this is bowling: there are rules!”), the pax did what the pax wanted despite Smokey’s best attempts to impose an authoritarian regime. Ever conflict avoidant, he just shrugged and said “follow me.” Shockingly, the pax largely complied as we moseyed over to and up Hillside.

Destination FroYo was next on the set list for some dips and derkins. This is when YHC sensed a lack of resolve in our fearless leader. Gripes from Cougar about calling an exercise the pax actually wanted to perform prompted Smoke to solicit requests and was told “6 minutes of Mary.” Knowing most of the pax had never done anything requiring effort while horizontal for a full 6 minutes, he instead called for one minute of Mary. Performance anxiety still surging, we did 1 minute of elbow plank. Unsure of the mutinous mood of a pax in full tilt, our Q hung a louie at the Selwyn/Woodlawn light, sputtered in first gear for a moment to collect the 6, and then carried on to the dip rail.

Around this time, Swiper pointed out that Smokey had consistently called the 3 exercises he was sure we still did in F3. But like a cameo guitar solo from Trey Anastasio at a Dead & Co show, what happened next was completely unexpected. At the 35-minute mark after crossing the bridge at Michael Baker, the pax did 10 Imperial Walkers, also known in musical circles as the Upright Freddie Mercury, the Erect Freddie Mercury, or just the Turgid Mercury. Minds now having been sufficiently blown, we screamed to the top of Michael Baker and back down to the bridge for super derkins and running through someone’s fart cloud.

Up the back entrance to MPHS, no less than 10% of the pax performed the bear crawls as instructed before heading down the CC trails. At the muddiest part of the trail, more Mary was called for. The same 10% laid on their backs in the mud. Hillary, as crafty as his namesake, took advantage of the wooden bridge and found the one spot of dry ground and clung to it like Rose clung to the flotsam that could have saved Jack’s life if she wasn’t such a selfish bitch. The montage of such hallowed Mustang ground could not and would not end without a coupon circle. Swiper being the lone refusenik, all enjoyed comparing their marbles with their neighbor. At least one so-called leader of F3 Nation tried to shove a rock down his pants (presumably to stuff for an upcoming photo shoot). Frogger’s life flashed before his eyes as the same so-called leader hurled a boulder at Frogger’s head with murderous intent. Jay Bilas and Seth Greenberg instantly demanded that rock throwing be banished in college sports forever. But just like brave young Filipowski, Frogger soldiered on in a gutsy demonstration of heroism not often seen against a team as valiant as last-place Louisville.

The tribute tour ended with a whimper instead of a bang, as not one pax left it all on the field. A mosey back to the AO completed the nostalgic Mustang reunion promptly at 0800. Kit, in his signature double cotton, provided the take out in a Ball of Man to complete the show.

PT Barnum once said “always leave them wanting more.” And just like that, the circus of Mustang may just have the pax screaming for an encore. T-Claps to Smokey for getting the band back together.

Naked Man Moleskin:
– Critics instantly took to social media, praising both the creativity of the workout and its punctuality
– However the DEI committee was disturbed with how only cisgender humans participated
– Immediately following the workout, a wellness check on RW was performed. He was found to be noticeably distraught at the alarm fail resulting in his fartsack
– A throwback to 2017 era F3 Metro, at least 3 pax participated in a good old fashioned doubledown with The Worm and Mustang: Gandalf, Lee, and Swiper
– In all seriousness, there was talk of attempting to at least launch a semi-frequent cadence to Mustang reunions. The idea with early groundswell approval is a once a quarter Mustang. Which would put us back on the calendar for June 1 with a Red Warrior Q (as penance for the fartsack). To paraphrase Smokey at COT – this group of men is a blessing in my life, and I don’t see each of you as much as I’d like. Let’s keep this thing going like the Balsa Gliders or The Connells… semi-frequent gatherings to reminisce fondly with our friends and brothers.