PAX: Goose, Popeye, Pope, Paradox, Lil Cuz, Safety Valve, Roxbury, Maneater, Honeysuckle, Yelnats, Duke, BamBam, Coyote, Jacknife
AO: The Peltch, 01-17-2026
By: America’s Best
This beat down was formed for over a year in my mind and at least as long in my iPhone notes. (That’s right- I’m saying it may have been in my phone longer than my mind). It went through a few different versions, most much more complicated than the final product (This originally had all the makings of a Maui disaster). Hopefully my journey to becoming Catholic was just interesting enough to distract everyone from the hard work we would be doing this morning. But because there is so much to unpack here,
this backblast will likely be tedious, ponderous, even rambling… I mean, even this prologue/disclaimer is rambling… anyway, because of that, this all to say that I’ve also prepared this TLDR version:
Warmarama followed by bear crawling and crab walking to get Cardinal (who was there in spirit regardless of HC vs. FS status).
Next was a Dora 2100, then some monkey humpers and then burpees.
The End.
Stop here and go about your day if you can. But if you are bored, or maybe just now realizing you need more fiber in your diet, please witness the unabridged firepower of this fully armed and operational backblast:
First things first: Standard Warmarama.
Because even divine inspiration requires loosened hammies.
⸻
Thing One: Driving Father Cardinal
In the beginning, there was me… talking to the M.
Somewhere between having a Catholic wife, a kid in Catholic school, and showing up to F3 consistently, I started drifting—slowly, unintentionally—toward Catholicism. F3 didn’t cause it, but it sure added fuel to the fire. I started realizing that a number of the guys I worked out with had converted.
These were guys that I didn’t not respect, and did not hold in low regard, but it at least in a moderate regard. I’m trying to say they’ve seemed like OK people.
And then there was Cardinal.
An actual Catholic priest.
Posting to the AO.
Doing burpees.
I remember telling the M one night, “I think I just need a few minutes alone to talk to Fr. Patrick.”
So I prayed about it. And the next morning, I was almost halfway to the Lion’s Den when my GroupMe went off—this was before I learned you should absolutely not keep GroupMe alerts on at all times.
It was Cardinal.
Locked out.
Needed a ride.
So of course I turned around—because when God hands you a priest needing a lift, you don’t hit snooze.
Wait that’s a mixed metaphor…. How about “when the clock radio of life plays Huey Lewis and the News…” well whatever. Sometimes you get what you need. Oh, ok, it should be The Rolling Stones on the radio!
Anyway, to recreate that moment:
PAX bear crawl halfway to the field, then stop… and crab walk all the way back to the flag.
Strangely enough, Cardinal HC’d this morning and didn’t show.
In retrospect, we probably should’ve crab-walked to his parents’ house and made him come anyway.
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Thing Two: Give ’Til It Hurts
One morning, I was heading out the door to RCIA when I realized I hadn’t finished the study questions at the end of the chapter. I opened the workbook and rushed through the last couple.
They were about giving to the less fortunate.
The final question stopped me cold:
“When do you find it hard to give to someone less fortunate?”
After a minute, I had my answer.
When I lived in Memphis, I was often approached for money—for bus fare, food, whatever. And more often than not, I knew exactly where that money was going.
So my honest answer became:
When I know the recipient won’t use it for a good purpose.
But that didn’t sit right.
So I said a quick prayer—asking for guidance on how to handle those situations better. Because Scripture is pretty clear: if someone asks, and you have it, you give.
I closed the book, walked outside, reached for my truck door… and heard something I hadn’t heard in about 20 years.
“Excuse me… you got a minute?”
A man appeared out of nowhere, asking me for money.
I hadn’t been in that situation in decades. And yet—here it was, immediately after the prayer. I was fairly certain how the money would be used. And yet—here was the answer.
So I gave.
That became “Give ’Til It Hurts.”
A three-man Dora:
Two stations grinding Dora exercises.
One man on an MOT with a coupon.
When the MOT reached a station, he gave his coupon away—to the man who “needed it most”—and that man moved on.
And the surprise twist? music + trivia
The MOT changed every song.
And if the PAX could identify the song, the performing artist, and the original artist, they got to pick the next MOT.
The guessing was impressive.
Doc nailed Weezer’s Hash Pipe—but who had Toto on their bingo card?
Maneater crushed “everybody’s class song,” Good Riddance by Green Day… only to be stunned when it turned out Conway Twitty sang the version we were hearing. (Is he even still alive?)
Honeysuckle dropped the hammer by identifying Manfred Mann’s cover of The Boss’ Blinded by the Light.
Alas, time.
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Intermission: Confession Is a Lot
Hold Al Gore.
Listen to Chunk.
When your first confession in your late 40s… there’s a lot to unpack.
So we listened to the “Tell us everything” speech from The Goonies.
Goose identified the movie—earning us 30 seconds off the next round.
Then: Monkey Humpers while Fats Domino sang
“Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey.”
Three merkins every time he said “monkey.”
There’s nothing that can spiritually or physically prepare one for that many monkey humpers.
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Thing Three: The Signpost
A few things converged one day at St. Genevieve Church.
I had recently heard Jerry Seinfeld talk about calling a comedian out of the blue—just to say, you’re doing well. He described it like a signpost on a mountain trail:
“You’re on the right path. Keep going.”
At the same time, doubts were creeping in during RCIA.
Am I doing the right thing?
So I prayed about it.
Not asking for proof—this is faith, after all. I didn’t need statues crying blood.
Just… a signpost.
I leaned back in the pew. There was a Bible in front of me. We had a few minutes before Mass, so I opened it randomly.
Jesus healing a blind man.
I’ve heard the story before. But then I read something I did not remember.
After Jesus first heals him, the man says:
“I see men… but they look like trees walking.”
That stopped me.
You see, when someone who has been blind from childhood suddenly gains sight, the eyes may work—but the brain often can’t interpret what it’s seeing. Faces are just amorphous shapes. Cars just blobs of color. There was even a specific study where the subject said he couldn’t tell people from telephone poles.
Men walking like trees.
When Jesus touched the man the first time, He healed his eyes.
The second time, He healed his visual processing.
That detail—medically accurate, subtle, unnecessary unless it were true—was as close to a signpost as I could ask for.
Maybe it was coincidence.
Maybe it was coincidence that I prayed for guidance.
That I mentioned eyes.
That I opened to that page.
That it mirrored a case I’d studied.
Maybe.
But we don’t believe in coincidences.
And even if we did—that’s too many.
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Final Thing: Tribute
One last evolution.
A song plays.
Burpees until someone identifies:
• the song
• the performer
• the original artist
Each right answer makes the exercise easier.
Recovery if anyone can identify what all the covers today have in common.
Paradox quickly nailed Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa by Vampire Weekend.
After a few close misses (Phil Collins!?), Goose and Paradox realized the singer was Peter Gabriel himself.
And as we held plank, Goose dropped the final truth:
Every song today was an older artist covering a younger artist’s work.
Old farts paying tribute to the men who inspired them.
And that’s exactly what this beatdown was.
My tribute to the men of F3 Thibodaux—
who inspired me to be stronger, humbler, and better than I was before.
No coincidences.
This is the Way— Keep going.
SYTIG,
AB