Sic Semper Mayonnanus

Wednesday, October 19, 2058
Arlintgon, Mexicanada

The star-studded Mayonnaise Cannons failed to live up to thier overhyped potential, unceremoniously losing 3 out the last 4 games of the season, bringing their final record to 5-13.

Undoubtedly, 100% of the blame lies with team captain and professional flim-flammer, Ravid Reene.

"Who cares about the record?" David said after the final out, "I skimmed $25 bucks off every team member's entry fee and now I'm rich, so fuck off!"

Other Mayonannons expressed themselves following the season's end.

"Yeah, losing that much was a bummer, but I make $800,000 a year so it's no big deal." - Mr. Riffy

"Every single moment I spent with the team I wished I was somewhere else. I've never had a bigger regret in my life then signing up. wah wah wah, boo friggin hoo." - Tiler Tesbach

"Let me put it this way: I'd rather hang out with Coursen then play another game." - Hoonter Huggington

"Let me put it this way: I wish I was born with a penis." - David Weegle the Paralegel

"I was manufactured to administer punishment. Please wield me with extreme prejudice." - Cyclone 4000

"Rectum? Damn near kill 'em!" - Jared Fogle

Nobody wants to hear anymore about this abortion of a sports team so let's skip the rest of the quotes and go right to the fall edition of THE MOVIE NAME GAME.

Charlie and the Faggot Factory
The Fags of Hazzard
Must Love Fags
The March of the Faggots
The Faggots Grimm
The Constant Faggot
Fags in America
Faggot Country
Faggottown
Shopfaggot
Fag Fag, Bang Bang
Dreamer: Inspired by a Fag Story
A History of Faggots
Fag Bride
and finally, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Faggot

The Newest Aqua Velva Power Couple

Mr. and Mrs. A-train Weegle

"Fuck Yeah!"

October 5, 2005
Arlington, VA

The Mayonnaise Cannons lost two more times, bringing their record to not many and lots. Their opponents, The Thunderbutthomofagdawgs, though technically superior, were probably feilding an illegal team due to all the she-males and post-op trannies that were obviously playing for them.

Bases on balls were again the achillies heel for the Mayonannons, as little baby David Weegle the paralegal couldn't find the strike zone, though he had no problem finding a different kind of strike zone last week, if you know what I mean (I'm talking about the pussy!).

Other Mayonnaise Cannons blamed their poor preformance on being distracted by the upcoming weekend, where they will be knee-deep in prostitutes, blow and gambling debt by this time tomorrow.

After the game, several Cannons made their way to the Clarendon grill to hear one of the worlds greatest songs ever and celebrate the 2 week anniversary of Matthew Ogle and the newest Mayonannon, Mandy. The happy couple also announced that they would thenceforth be known only as the singular entity, Mandogle.

dave and his ho 

Fortes in Unitate - Public Schools Are For Pussies

The Color Transformation

“Until we hear differently, we are going to credit the touchdown to number 71,” declared the PA announcer on a warm Saturday afternoon in September of 1998. Shocked, bewildered, excited and proud, I started wildly jumping up and down for joy in front of 3,000 fans in a loud Hofstra stadium. Sweat was dripping from my jersey and my pants had changed from the bright golden pre-game color to a darker shade of yellow. Most of the spectators, however, were too busy to notice my uniform’s color transformation. My touchdown had turned tide in the game that we wanted to win for many reasons. Some we knew of at the time. Others we found out only later. Chief among the ones that we were aware of was revenge. We, the Chaminade Flyers, were playing the hated Friars of St. Anthony’s. Our thirst for revenge dated back to an extra point that was attempted in November of 1997.

As expected, our team and St. Anthony’s had reached the playoffs in 1997, which was an eight team contest consisting of quarterfinals, semifinals and the championship. We finished the season in second place while the Friars finished in third. This meant that if we both beat our first round opponents, we would meet in the semis. As fate would have it, this came to pass. The game was close and came down to the wire. When we scored a touchdown that tied it with seven seconds to play, I ran onto the field to block for the kick that was going to send us to the championship game against the Mountaineers of Mount Saint Michael. Being one of the largest, strongest and yes fattest players, it was my task to block on the extra point/field goal kicking team. Extra points had always been a given for the team during the 1997 season. Our kicker was nearly perfect. The kick, which looked good to everyone watching, did not receive the good signal from the back judge. We lost to our despised rivals. On the bus ride back to our school, a senior admonished us juniors, “to remember how this feels when you play this team next year.”

No one could wait until the league released the schedules for the 1998 CHSFL season. We were about to find out the date, for which we spent 10 months of running, lifting and sweating. September 26, 1998 was going to be our day to, at least in our minds, make things right. We had two games to play before our day of reckoning. True to our preseason ranking as the third best team, we quickly beat overmatched Christ the King and Holy Cross. The week of practice before the game was intense. Everyone was on edge. Coaches pushed us a little bit harder that week. The real motivators were we seniors. We had a score to settle. Besides, who wanted to let the possible last game against St. Anthony’s, the last that we were going to be a part of anyway, be a loss? None of us wanted that.

The game started badly for us. St. Anthony’s ran a run-centered double wing offense and we were having a lot of trouble with their ground attack. As the starting defensive tackle, the coaches were throwing a good deal of criticism my way. With the score nine to three in the Friars’ favor, the ball was on their 9 yard line. It was a roll out to the right side, my left-side. The guard flung himself at my knees. With a loud thud, I hit the ground. Remembering the golden rule of football, play to the whistle, I got up and gave chase. A pile was forming in the end zone. I jumped in and when the umpire cleared the pile, I had the ball. Instead of scoring two points for the safety, we had six for my touchdown. After that, the momentum was with us. Their running attack failed to produce. Our special teams carried the day for us with a punt and a kick off returned for touchdowns. The day was ours. We had our vengeance.

At the end of the game, when all the handshakes and prayers had finished and we were on the bus riding back to school, the strongest felt emotion was neither joy nor pride. They were there to be sure. Mostly, we felt a sense of fulfillment in defending our team’s reputation and pride. That was what stuck with us. The boys had successfully defended their home. Later on, the seniors went to college, grew up and soon learned that there were many more serious things to get angry and insulted about then an extra point called no good. To be sure, we still hated (in fact, still do) St. Anthony’s. What we never forgot nor lost was the loyalty to each other, our team and our school. These things served us well after the 1998 season and continue to do so. Football and this game in particular gave and taught us an appreciation for this.