The origin of the “Holy War”

In looking back at 2006, this afternoon’s post will look back the whole rivalry between the Memphis Church and Da Crew, number 67 on the year-end countdown.

I had began attending church out in Cordova at the beginning part of the year, this coming after leaving a church but not attending services the year before.

Little did I know that the group of people that I associated with at the church would turn into a holy-roller version of Da Crew.

To some in Da Crew, they view the Bible Thumpers (that was the nickname that we gave to them) as emigrated snobs who would only last a hot second in South Memphis.

And the Bible Thumpers viewed us as a bunch of cocky and arrogant people who couldn’t keep their mouths closed.

Which was usually reserved for me, because I went into their church and dissed everyone from the janitor who cleans up to the church leader when I first got there.

When we tried to play them in basketball, I figured that there was going to be some excuse that they would chicken out if we moved forward with the game that we brokered with them.

So to solve that, I ended up writing up a contract in order to guarantee the game and making sure that all parties would understand the legal implications of the game.

Which was done at a press conference that was caught on tape with the help of my video camera in the campus cafeteria.

The contract for the most part was signed by both myself and Dr. Chris on January 24th, the same day that we were supposed to have a Bible study out in Hickory Hill.

Later that day, one of the people that we were going to face in the “Holy War” saw the contract that was done earlier in the day and signed by both myself and Dr. Chris at school.

Much to the chagrin of the people at the church, they saw this contract and started the seeds of the rivalry that started between Da Crew and the Bible Thumpers.

On Feb. 10th, the “Holy War” got intense when one of them decided to use my phone as a way to diss everyone and everything in Da Crew, this during one of the worst snowstorms in the history of the city.

Five days later, on Feb. 15th, there was going to be a Meeting of the Minds (read:the introduction of the two factions on campus).

That’s when one of them decided to hide in the Office Depot parking lot, which angered the members of Da Crew.

Especially when one of them said that they didn’t have time to play with little children, which was heard by some in Da Crew.

Well, who’s the little one now?

Hey, there’s condoms in the bathroom!!!

In looking back at 2006, this afternoon’s flashback will look back at number 73 on the countdown of the top 100 things, events, and people that made 2006 the year that it was.

A few weeks ago, I went on a trip with my church to Nashville for a conference with other churches from across the region, which I wrote about in my post on Halloween, because I had no Internet access for the three days that I was there in Nashville.

Given the fact that I have gone on many church trips in the past with my grandmother, you would think the trip to Nashville would be for the most part, free of anything that would be immoral.

Or better yet, immoral things that you have to make observations of for a blog entry.

Which is exactly what happened when some church members and I made a pit stop on the outskirts of Nashville.

There was this quaint service station that was on the west side of Nashville off Interstate 40 and given the fact that we were almost in Williamson County and running low on gas, we decided to fuel up for the road with snacks and gas by stopping there.

And given the fact that I drank like that “Home Alone” character (except the bed-wetting part), I found the pit stop the perfect opportunity to answer the call of nature.

I went into the bathroom and did what I had to do (can’t believe I’m writing about a bathroom) when I raised my head up after flushing the toilet.

In front of me was a condom-vending machine, that had all the great condom brands (Trojan, Magnum, Durex) waiting to be bought by some unsuspecting person in the men’s bathroom.

Beliving that the condom-vending machine wasn’t working, I twisted the knob to see if the condom machine was working properly.

To my surprise, it was.

After I washed my hands, I went out to grab a tall Coke for the road (regret that decision now) and told one of my church members what I just saw in the bathroom.

“There’s a condom vending machine in the bathroom,” I said, “And it actually works.”

My fellow church member looked at me as I let out a big sigh of disbelief, based on my knowledge of knowing that condoms in service stations are normally located behind the cashiers, not in a bathroom.

“Well, that’s the way of the world we live in,” he said to me as we went to the counter.

So true.

Hope sprang courtship madness

In looking back at 2006, this evening’s post will look back at number 76 on the countdown at the events, things, people, places, and sayings that made 2006 a year to remember.

When the 2006 NCAA Tournament tipped off, it began the madness that we call March Madness.

And in Memphis, the only madness that surronded my friends was the madness that surronded their various courtships.

With me, it was still that cute girl from the campus bookstore that I met when the fall semester began two days after Hurricane Katrina and the winding down of what was supposed to be one of the biggest stories of the year as far as I was concerned.

Further south in Whitehaven, my friends Dr. Joye and Robert began talking to each other and dating, something that Robert waxed poetically about in his blog throughout the middle part of March, which seemed to be going well.

One of my friends in the church that I attend was also talking to someone that he met in Indianapolis during the New Year’s and unlike the two courtships, he managed to do something that neither myself or Robert could do.

Sustain a healthy courtship.

As the Tigers were making a run for the Final Four, my friend ended up going to Cleveland for his very first date with his friend and to be honest, it was a huge success.

He mentioned to me during some of the conversations the details and how his lady friend treated him almost like a king (well, almost) and the trips to the Cavaliers game, the museum in downtown Cleveland, and her son.

Of course, I like most of the people in the singles minstry was happy that he finally went through with the date.

It’s just a matter of whether the girl is the one for him.

Which is all put in God’s hands.

Trash talking in the snow

In continuing with the 100 greatest events of 2006, number 92 will look back at the snowstorm trash-talk between the Bible Boys and Da Crew.

When I first got to the church I’m at now, I heard some ramblings about a guy who called himself the second coming of Kobe, which seemed to me as something of a challenge towards myself and Dr. Chris.

The trash-talking between both camps came to a head when on Feb. 10th, during one of the biggest snowstorms in the city’s history, when I made a phone call to Dr. Chris with one of the Bible Boys in my office.

And what turned a friendly rivalry into a war of words between both camps, one of them decided to rail out at myself, Dr. Chris, Da Pimp, his lady friend, Tracy, and Dr. Joye, who a week before said to me that she wanted to learn how to play basketball.

During a snowstorm.

The quote that one of them used in the tirade that seemed to stick out was “wooden nickels”, which was what they called Da Crew.

Of course, to this day, it’s still regarded as the greatest streetball game to never be played.

Roadtrippin’ with the brothers

The last time I went to Nashville, the trip was pretty much the worst trip experience that I’ve ever had.

Plenty of bickering, stupid pranks, and oh yeah, two Ray Nagin-like tirades by myself and my then-boss.

And the tag that I used about my department as the joke of the corner of North Manassas and Chelsea Avenue was all so true when I returned to Memphis the very next day.

A year later, I would end up going with my church to Nashville, a trip that a friend said to me when I told him about the Music City Meltdown, was a complete 180 from the trip I went on last year.

Which it was.

I had took notes of what happened during the three days that I’ve been away from the computer and this blog, which had 49 hits on Saturday and 24 on Sunday.

Friday, Oct. 27th: I left with my friend James at 5 o’clock from my house to head to another church member’s house in Cordova, where we would leave from there to head to Nashville.

Before I left, I made sure that I remembered Kasi’s number so when I entered Davidson County, I would call her and let her know that I was okay (more on that later).

While we were waiting on another brother in the church to arrive, James and I went to Backyard Burger on Trinty Road, down the road from Tom’s house and got something to eat.

The interesting thing about the trip to Backyard Burger was that I had to repeat to an attractive girl my order because I figured that she was more interested in looking at me than she was in taking my order.

Which gave me that bitter beer look on my face and silence from James.

We returned to Tom’s house and James was unsure about speaking at the church convention in Nashville when I explained to him that faith is measured as a 12 oz. can of Coke.

Fifteen minutes later, another member of my church, Brandon came to the house and offered me one of his books to read while we were headed to Nashville.

Around 6:30, Thomas (the guy we were waiting on) came to the house, which allowed us to start putting things in Tom’s car and start for the road.

Before we headed on Interstate 40, Thomas thought it would be a good idea to stop at a McDonald’s on Germantown Parkway to grab a bite, but traffic was a mess at the drive-thru, so instead we got on the road in the middle of a southern tsuamni and headed east on Interstate 40.

Most of the ride, Tom was educating me on U2 and Sting and trying to convince James that Puff Daddy was not the one that did “Every Breath You Take”.

And it gave me time to read that book Brandon let me borrow.

We stopped in Parkers Crossroads, which is in Henderson County, and Thomas got the opportunity to grab some McDonald’s while we stopped at a gas station there.

That’s when Tom found the time to hook his navigation system to his dashboard when he got behind the wheel.

Once we entered Williamson County, I tried to remember Kasi’s number and instead of writing it down like I should have, I ended up dialing the wrong digits and having a deep think session on trying to remember her number.

When we dropped Thomas and James off at one of the host families’ houses, the rain was coming down even harder as we got back on the interstate and headed towards Goodlettsville, which was (when I was growing up) the home of Oscar Mayer and the city we would be staying in with a host family.

Once we got into Goodlettsville, Tom decides to stop at a Wendy’s and I decide to use the bathroom, which turned into an adventure because the dining room at Wendy’s and KFC were closed and the hotel next to Wendy’s had no bathroom that was open to the public, so the next best thing was to head to a McDonalds and try not to get any mud on my shoes.

Tom and I arrived at our host family’s apartment around 10 o’clock, which is when I started to again brainstorm and think of Kasi’s number so I could call her and let her know that I was okay.

Which turned into me calling pretty much all of the names that had her last name in the Nashville White Pages and calling the same number that I thought was the number she gave me five times.

And the same message from the person that I called, that I had the wrong number.

Before we all went to sleep, Tom figured that it was a good idea to watch Bill O’Reily’s interview on the David Letterman Show.

And me being a Democrat and a strong opponent of everything that O’Reily says, I figured that hearing a load of hogwash from some idiot conservative was not the way I wanted to end my day.

Saturday Oct. 28th:I woke up early to go outside and meditate as well as look out at the vi the city of Goodlettsville from our host family’s apartment.

As I returned back to the apartment, I ended up stubbing my toe after racing up a flight of stairs and grabbing my jacket and grimacing in pain.

I had calle my mother to let her know that I was okay and explained to her that the city I was in was once the home of the Oscar Mayer factory, a factory you could see off Interstate 65 when I was a kid.

Tom and I then headed out on Interstate 65 towards the Convention Center, where the conference was going to be.

We ended up getting off on the wrong exit and then getting back on Interstate 40 towards Downtown Nashville and got off at the right exit.

During the trip there, Tom (who once lived in Nashville) questioned me on everything baseball and I questioned him on everything rock (he thinks that Led Zepplin is the greatest metal band of all time).

When we walked into the ballroom that the conference’s events were being held in, the place had the feel of those church services I remembered as a kid.

I sat in the middle of large ballroom and rubbed shoulders with the brothers and sisters from the other churches around the region.

Midway through Ed Anton’s message, I figured that it would be a good idea to grab the morning paper and get some snacks and a pen to take notes on the packet that they gave us before we went into the ballroom.

So I went out Commerce Street and headed north on Opry Place to Broadway, which is where the Nashville Arena is located.

I went to a gift shop and bought a few Snickers and a Nestle Crunch, plus a Starbucks Fracuppcino (I don’t think I spelled that right) and looked at their line of guitars and fedora hats (they didn’t have any in stock).

I raced back down Broadway and went to the paper vending machine and got that morning’s Tennesseean and went back inside the Convention Center.

For lunch, Tom, another fellow church member, and I went with other brothers and sisters in the churches in Huntsville and Louisville to Demo’s, which from what I experienced, the best deal for a steak in Nashville (you only pay 14.95 for a 10 oz. steak).

While I was waiting on my food, I had thought I had spotted Kasi at the table near where we were sitting at.

Of course, I wasn’t about to take that risk of going over there and saying out loud in an already crowded place that it was indeed Kasi.

Which it wasn’t.

Chandler was updating me and Tom on the Ole Miss-Auburn game, thanks in part to the wonders of cell phone web browsers.

Before I began eating my scalloped shrimp, I found out that the guy who was sitting across from me was born a scant six months after Peanuts debuted in 1950.

Even his name was Charlie Brown.

When I was almost finished eating my shrimp, I thought it was a good idea to pull off the Auburn fleece that I had on.

Come to find out, the fleece was filled with so much lint, you would have thought that the people who made those fleeces stole it from a sheep in east Alabama.

Feeling ashamed, I covered my face up with my shirt and went into the bathroom to redeem myself and my hair.

James had to share news for our church, so knowing that he’s a bit unsure about speaking, I explained to him the same thing I said to him before we left for Nashville that Kevin put 12 ounces of faith in him, so that’s why he picked him to do it instead of somebody else.

I said, “Act like there’s no one out there and don’t worry about how it comes out.”

And he did an excellent job of sharing the news that we had in our church.

After we finished the third session of the day, I went around and introduced myself to a bunch of people from the churches around the region.

I went up to one, a very attractive girl from Nashville, and said that Tom and his band of brothers found me under a bridge and beat me senseless with a Bible and dragged me kicking and screaming to Nashville.

Of course, she didn’t buy into that.

When we in Memphis, Tom had told us to get him a low-carb burger from Backyard Burger.

Get to Music City, the guy becomes me on my good day, eating at every fast food place in the city of Goodlettsville.

We went to Dave and Buster’s, which is similar to Jillian’s at Peabody Place.

And similar to when I lost to the Black Widow in Memphis, I lost again to another female pool shark, who was beating me very soundly at first.

And being the ultra-competive person that I am, I was pretty bummed out that I lost on the last ball.

Away from that, I ended up winning 287 coupons by pretty much running amok on the arcade area of the place.

After we left, Tom decides again to eat at another fast-food place and then we talked about various things while we were on our way back to Dan’s house.

Sunday Oct. 29th: Nashville to me has always been a city of mystery and surprises, and in the back of my mind, I was hoping that Kasi would just pop up out of nowhere and we exchange hugs like what you see in those movies.

But that wasn’t the case.

At the Convention Center, we first attended classes that were taught by that weekend’s speakers, Ed and Debby Anton.

Then it was on to the ballroom, where we had an abundance of singing and praise as well as a powerful message from Ed Anton, who wrote a book on repentance and a book that Tom  and James were discussing during our trip up Interstate 40.

The girl that I told that story to about being found under a bridge and getting beat with a Bible and dragged kicking and screaming to Nashville and I exchanged email addresses, which was a small consolation for me forgetting Kasi’s number.

Before we got on the road, we ate at a Mexican resturant in the West End and oddly enough, the place was across from Vanderbilt University, which is where she attends.

A couple of guys I talked to weren’t even aware that you could get free coffee if those sucko Titans won on Monday.

Which they did.

After we finished eating, we got on the road and headed towards Memphis.

When were in Williamson County, we stopped at a gas station and the bathroom that I used had a coin-operating condom machine.

That actually works.

For 160 or so miles, I was struggling to keep my bladder under control, which was the other big story this weekend.

So by the time we got to Stanton, which is a city that I know too well because of my grandmother’s friend’s church, we stopped at this rinky-dink truck stop that looked like one of those truck stops you see in movies, both James and myself answered the call of nature.

And got back on the road.

We arrived in Memphis just as the sun came down, which was a very beautiful sunset over the interstate as we exited onto Germantown Parkway.

When I arrived home, the first thing I did was call Kasi and tell her what happened.

And to my surprise, she was concerned about me when I was there.

Interesting.

You can’t go at it alone

Most of the time, I don’t normally write that much about my life or anything that pertains to religion, because this is supposed to be a blog based soley on sports, not a narrative of my life.

But after last night, I figured I should say something about this in this blog.

I attended the weekly Wednesday night Bible Talk out in Countrywood at another church member’s house and in the talk, we talked about building relations with our fellow brothers in the church and most importantly, having good counsel.

The example that Kevin showed us in the talk was about a compulsive gambler that had his life threatened by a loan shark because he owed a lot of debts.

Bad thing is, that the loan shark came to the hospital where his [the compulsive gambler's] wife was giving birth and gave the gun-to-the-head signal about his money.

So in a last ditch effort, the guy goes to a casino and according to Kevin, the tape that the casino showed him (the guy) alone at the Blackjack table for 20 hours.

At one point, the guy won 9 million dollars, which is pretty much enough money to pay off any debts, big or small.

But with just himself at the table, it seemed that he had no other choice but to keep going.

In other words, he was in the zone.

But from what Kevin said in our talk last night, the guy slowly began to lose chips at the table until he had nothing left.

The point that he was making, was that in life, we can’t go at everything alone.

If I won 9 million dollars at a Blackjack table, I would want someone to tap me on my shoulder and convince me to cash in those chips and walk out of the door.

Or slap me upside my head.

After we finished the Bible Talk, we used the rest of the time for fellowship, which I used wisely to talk with a few guys.

Most importantly, I explained to my friend Tom that I had to realize that you can’t go at everything alone in life, especially when you’re trying to walk in the same path as Jesus did when He was on earth.

I look at my mother and how standoffish she is towards people, which in some cases is a good thing, but sometimes you have to think things through and get good counsel on things.

One other example of good counsel was when I said to both Sharika and Michelle the week before the cutest moment in the history of Memphis professional baseball that there’s no way I’m going to pull off what I would later do on the Fourth of July.

And Michelle had this to say to me.

“How can you let what happened in high school dictate what happens now?”

And look how the summer ended.

Everyone in this life cannot tackle on the world by themselves.

It doesn’t matter how strong you are physically or even mentally, how many degrees you possess, or the color of your skin, you’e going to need somebody in your life before you leave this good world to give you advice.

Or help you become close to God.

Or whatever.

Readers, if you have a friend or a group of friends that you go to for advice or good counsel, call that person after you read this.