9/30/22 Combine/Kiewit Middle School – 51 degrees, calm wind, perfect!
12 PAX: Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent, Nugent
QIC: Nugent
Oompa welcomed the PAX to F3 Omaha at 5:30 AM. The Mission Statement, Disclaimer, and 5 Core Principles, and motto were given. An inquiry about FNGs was also made, but no FNGs were in attendance. PAX stayed at the shovel flags for Warm-a-rama
Warm-a-rama
- A little stretching
The men then moseyed to Cottonwood Elementary basketball courts (about 800m from flags)
The Thang
As a whole group, PAX completed each circuit of exercises together, rotating cadence count. After each circuit they ran to the next circuit station on the trail (~350 m) around Cottonwood Park.
Circuit 1 (Cottonwood Middle School basketball courts)
- Merkins – 40
- Big Boys – 30
- Jump Tucks – 20
- Burpees – 10
Circuit 2 (Cottonwood Park tennis courts)
- Low Dollies – 40
- Shoulder Taps – 30 IC
- Bobby Hurley’s – 20
- Groiners – 10
Circuit 3 (Cottonwood Park playground)
- Monkey Humpers – 40 IC
- Heels to Heaven – 30 IC
- Carolina Dry Docks – 20
- Plank Jacks – 10
Prior to Circuit 4, Frosty brought the PAX together at 5:45 for a moment of silence to recognize our fallen brother, Chris Gradoville, 38, Nugent.
Circuit 4 (Cottonwood Middle School basketball courts)
- Low Dollies – 40
- Big Boys – 30
- Cherry Pickers – 20 IC
- Burpees – 10
Namearama
All Pax members honored our brother Chris Gradoville by reciting his F3 name, Chris Gradoville/38/Nugent during Namearama.
Announcements and Prayers
COT
Casey at the Bat
Ernest Thayer – 1888
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, “If only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.”
But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.
But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.
Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile lit Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Casey at the bat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one!” the umpire said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
“Get him! Get the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have got him had not Casey raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, “Strike two!”
“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered “Fraud!”
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.
Psalm 23
Bay Psalm Book – 1640
The Lord to me a shepherd is,
want therefore shall not I:
He in the folds of tender grass,
doth cause me down to lie:
To waters calm me gently leads
restore my soul doth he:
He doth in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake lead me.
Yea, though in the valley of death’s shade
I walk, none ill I’ll fear:
Because thou art with me, thy rod,
and staff my comfort are.
For me a table thou hast spread,
in presence of my foes:
Thou dost anoint my head with oil;
my cup it overflows.
Goodness and mercy surely shall
all my days follow me:
And in the Lord’s house I shall dwell
so long as days shall be.