When many people think back to high school fond memories usually aren’t the first things that come to mind. This is where I’m thankful. You see, for some reason my grade in high school consisted of just a ton of really awesome people. My specific group of awesome people consisted of about 30-80 people at any given time. Parties were fantastic. For some reason, unlike any other conglomeration of hormonal teenagers, we didn’t “clique” up. We had the varsity football players, the green team founders, the theatre kids, the band kids, the orchestra kids, the we-don’t-do-anything kids, the smartest people in the school, the dumbest people in the school, the alcoholics, the longboarders, the Magic maniacs, the C.O.D. guys and the religious bunch that weren’t allowed to read Harry Potter. We were The Breakfast Club on steroids; we had a little bit of everyone. And we only had one rule: be yourself. If you were anything else, we would know; I don’t how but we knew. If that makes us a clique then so be it. I still do not know how we all got along, but we did.
After high school it was like the breaking of the fellowship. We all spread out across the country and I lost touch with quite a few people. Yeah, it sucks but people move on with their lives. If I see you again, great! If not, oh well, it was nice knowing you! Then my friend Walker created a page appropriately titled “Keeping in Touch.” Ever since the creation of that I’ve felt that we’ve been able to at least keep some ties intact.
Recently, there was an article posted about a group of four guys who had been playing the game of “Tag” for 23 years. 23 YEARS. Yeah, talk about commitment.
The game they play is fundamentally the same as the schoolyard version: One player is “It” until he tags someone else. But men in their 40s can’t easily chase each other around the playground, at least not without making people nervous, so this tag has a twist. There are no geographic restrictions and the game is live for the entire month of February. The last guy tagged stays “It” for the year.
How did they manage this? Well, by flying across the country and hiding in one another’s car trunks, breaking and entering, steaking out in bushes, whatever they had to do to get their tag. Although the four men have all gone their separate ways, some to priesthood, some to criminal law practices, this game has allowed their friendship to stay strong throughout the years.
Mr. Konesky, a tech-company manager, is now “It” again and has had 11 months to stew. With February approaching, he has been batting around a few plans of attack. He says he likes to go after people who haven’t been “It” for a while. That includes Father Raftis, who has been harder to reach since he moved to Montana but who, as several players pointed out, is a sitting duck on Sundays.
Well, my friends and I also have no desire to lose each other so we decided to come up with our own version. There are seven of us, all at our respected universities: Alec, Alex, Walker, Kristi, Taylor, Joseph, and me. Organized through Facebook, we tried the whole “NOT IT” approach to see who would be “It” first. I had no desire to be”it” first so I changed the rules a bit and introduced the “nose goes” approach. If you’re not familiar with “nose goes” the rules are simple: don’t be the last person to put your finger on your nose otherwise you’re it. If you want some advice, the key to never losing is to start the process.
So I switched it up. I posted a picture of me with my finger on my nose and my idea actually caught on. I love these guys.
Joseph was the last one to participate thus he didn’t make it on to the collage. Out of everyone, though, he probably has the best placement to start us off. Taylor and I mapped it out so we know. Kristi is probably the safest over in Boston whereas Walker should watch his back. These guys are the kind of people who are not above driving ten hours and hiding in your closet, bribing people to achieve victory or ambushing you in the shower. They’re horrible and I love them dearly.
We begin in March.