Once upon a time there was a barn…

And in that barn there was a table.

At first, some of us were overzealous. Too eager to play that game of ages.

Reluctant to let design trump functionality.

Drunks.

But as the snow thawed and the spring fast approached, the moist fingers of nostalgia did worm their way into our

hearts and souls.

Create a memorial we must, they thought.

And so, children, this special table was brought into the barn to be

decorated with the likeness of its owners.

But this table became much more

than a table to its trusty owners. It was table, floor decoration, bed,

bar, heart.

The centerpiece of our lives.

The table of our souls.

For times we’ll never forget…

…and times we’ll never remember.

It is a small table, yet there are those who love it.

We have yearned to reclaim this table. To bring it’s steady warmth

back into our lives.

But something horrible has happened….

Strangers have usurped the table.

These interlopers have stolen the very essence of our beings. Our best memories. Our strongest

bond manifested in wood, sweat, and tears.

So, what now, dear friends of mine? What now?

Nuke them?

Stand idly by and watch our mammories memories be abused?

… or

ROAD TRIP TO HANOVER TO GET OUR FUCKING TABLE BACK?

By Alexbus or by Dartmouth Coach, we will find you. And we will take our table. And we will make you cry. See you on the court, rookies.

XOXO,