The Flying Popeshank Redemption

I wish I could tell you that the Flying Popes fought the good fight, and How I Set Your Mother let them be. I wish I could tell that  - but recreational volleyball is no fairy-tale world. They never said who did the beatings, but we all knew. Things went on like that for awhile - rec. volleyball life consists of routine, and then more routine. Every so often, the Flying Popes would show up with a few fresh bruises on their egos. How I Set Your Mother kept at them - sometimes they were able to fight 'em off, sometimes not. And that's how it went for the Flying Popes - that was their routine. I do believe those first five weeks were the worst for them, and I also believe that if things had gone on that way, this rec. league would have got the best of them.

As we sit, waiting for a shot for proving our growth and abilities to the fine administration of Players Sports Group, I can only imagine a regular season exit interview...

PSG:Flying Popes Volleyball, your file says you've played out twenty four games of a seven week regular season. Do you feel you've been competitive?

Flying Popes: Competitive? Well, now let me see. You know, I don't have any idea what that means.

PSG: Well it means that you are inclined or desiring to succeed over all others...

Flying Popes:  I know what *you* think it means sonny. To me it's just a made up word. A commissioner's word so young fellas like you can wear stripes and whistle, and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for how we played?

PSG: Well, are you?

Flying Popes: There's not a day that goes by I don't feel regret. Not because we're in the bottom of the standings, or because you think we should. I look back on the way we were then: a young stupid team who committed those terrible unforced errors.  I want to talk to them. I want to try and talk some sense to them, tell them the way things are. But I can't. That young team's long gone and this thirty something is all that's left. We got to live with that. Competitive? It's just a bullshit word. So you go on and fill out your playoff bracket, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit.

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I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a recreational champion can feel, a recreational champion at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the gymnasium. I hope to see my dad and shake his hand. I hope the banner is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.

Week 3: Flying Popes' Silver Linings Playbook

We are three weeks into a title defense and the Flying Popes appear to be hung over. The only other collection of highly skilled athletes that seem to be on such different pages are the Los Angeles Lakers. Losing two of three tonight to "How We Set Your Mother" was extra painful as a team chose to be more pun-laden than the actual CBS sitcom itself. Salt, meet the open wound.

Simple unforced errors can attribute to this early season slide. Why really are the Flying Popes unable to pull it together? Pressure to deliver again? Aside from the Popes championship last year, it had been two years since Chicagoans we treated to such a rise to glory. Maybe it's because the court in our peripheral, Team Juicy, were too much a distraction (pure speculation). I'm not sure if they're called Team Juicy but if every woman on your team is in yoga pants or actual volleyball shorts, odds are Team Juicy should be your name. Our season is at a point where we may need to channel our inner Val Kilmer, Tom Cruise and Anthony Edwards. It sure could help pair with the Kenny Loggins stuck in my head.

Taking stock on the evening (it's nearly midnight I am still thinking of this game!) I must say at least I didn't lose my cool and further my attempt to publicly impersonate myself at the age of six. That's progress right? Recently watching Silver Linings Playbook makes me wonder if the Flying Popes plan to get our season back needs to be hit head on with an equally crazy idea, like a grown man drawing parallels between his struggling recreational volleyball team and an acclaimed story of lost man intent on getting his life back together no matter what it takes.

Who knows, maybe next week we should all play in trash bags!? (side note, thank you God, for not having Tom Petty's Free Fallin'  on the soundtrack.)

Flying Popes 2013 Season Preview

Flying Popes 2012 Players Sports 6 Coed Volleyball Champs

Chicago doesn't get the chance to celebrate champions the past few years (or hundred for some yahoos). While most our pro teams play like they're in a rec league, Flying Popes are the rec team that has pro swagger to it. Let's be honest, who doesn't take a team more serious when they step out on the court with red, white and blue sweat bands?

Above is the photo after the 3 seed ran the table and cut down the net (no we didn't PlayersSports, we don't want a fine) last season. Now what? What do the Flying Popes do to keep their focus and not stare up at the rafters of St. Andrew's Church? I'd like to believe budget cuts is the main reason why the Flying Popes Championship banner is still not hanging up. I digress.

The bands are back on our heads creating the minimal intimidation and distraction we planned on. The Flying Popes roster is impressive once again. In the era of rec-league free agency, anything can happen once the season is done. People move, get a dog, or lose the drive to be a top tier athletic specimen, recreationally speaking. Flying Popes return all members of the 2012 title team with the addition/return of the wild card Vincente Lacey. I had to change his name a little because of all his tv commercials, we don't need this season to require security Beiber style. Little does most of Chicago know, but Lacey was integral in the roster creation of the 2012 team.

Having Vinnie on the court is like if Jerry Krause wanted to lace up with Jordan, Pippen, and Rodman.

Week 1 saw a Flying Popes match victory, winning 2-1. As, Alabama football coach Nick Saban says, there's no talk of repeat. Each season is it's own, full of it's own challenges and goals. It's going to take a lot of effort and teamwork, good thing we're wearing those cool sweatbands.

Recreationally Superior

10 years ago I was enjoying my time at Ripon College. I was once invited to be apart of something very special. I was asked to join Ken & Leo's team of perennial champions for indoor soccer. I don't know how I was blessed to be on such a stacked team. We cruised through the regular season to a top seed for the playoffs. As we neared my illusive "Intramural Champion" T-shirt, we suffered a devastating loss in the playoffs. It was brutal. I spent years of trying to balance academics with occasional athletic competition to only come up empty again. Was I destined to be the Karl Malone or Dan Marino or the rec sports world?

Many people like to say "time heals all wounds." It may be a stretch but "forgive, never forget" seemed to transcend more for me on this matter. A decade past and I have to be honest with myself. "At 30 years old, is my recreational sports career over?" How could I explain to my nieces and nephews that there was not much glory in my day, just great sportsmanship?

God sure works in mysterious ways. (Sorry to go Tebow-light on you there.) I caught up about 4 years ago with a friend, Vinny, who was the General Manager youth ministries at a church. After getting drafted (not sure if there were any other calls placed) in the first round for the flag football season, I helped the team to a "prestigious" 2-7 season. We lost a great man (Gabe) to a knee injury mid-season and also a few of the women players suffered season ending injuries/babysitting conflicts. We then ventured into indoor volleyball, where against the odds we finished the season with a respectable record and one playoff win. The off season was draining. Where do we go from here? Are we a team? Will everyone be back? We have the talent but do we have a team?

There was no way we could enter as a pre-season favorite to win it all. No way. Although a few key acquisitions of talented free agents added enough excitement around the league. We played our game, Flying Popes volleyball. That took us to a strong record and a #3 seed in the tourney. We knew it was possible, but it wouldn't come easy. Our playoff run resumed last night. The Flying Popes, in their first Final Four appearance, against the #2 seed, TFC. After, edging them out 2-1 in the match, the Flying Popes felt that perhaps we were on the verge of greatness.

I remained with a tempered enthusiasm. The tragic memory of that misdirected goal 10 years ago on the soccer field was at the front of my mind during the intermission. Sure, there was pressure but only for our opponents. It was like a Robert Redford movie mixed with a Kevin Costner movie topped off with some Gene Hackmanesque moments. There was just too much fate. The Flying Popes diligently took care of business and swept the finals against the Jet Setters.

We won. Champions. I was a champion. After a decade of struggle, I was presented with a black long sleeve shirt that reads "Players Sports Group Champions." I've always wondered what it was like for Jordan to clench the trophy after Game 5 in 1991. I've never been so humbled by such a marvelous thermal shirt.
The ref immediately congratulated us, then at the championship shirt presentation ceremony the questions began to fly. "Are you guys coming back next season?" "Are you going to step up to the B League?" "Where do you go from here?"

Where do we go from here? Where do I go from here? I've just achieved what appears to be a lifelong dream, to be recreationally superior to my peers. What does anyone in the face of triumph do? Reflect.

Will I be back? I don't know. Why not go out on top? How much longer will I have the drive and competitiveness to keep me at the top of my recreational game? I think it's best to say I need time. Time to reflect on these memories forged over this improbable season. Maybe I'll just take the next couple weeks to spend time with my family and friends, hopefully just get back to a normal life. Time to recharge, focus on what Mike needs. It's safe to say, I am proud to be a Flying Pope. I hope to finish my recreational career a Flying Pope. Is that up to me? I'm not sure. I've made some great friends over the years as a Flying Pope and I certainly expect those friendships to long outlast my days in uniform/sweatband. I'd like to think the recreational sports system is not as bottom line driven as it's counterparts but if a tough decision is needed I certainly wouldn't stand in the way of the organization's future.


I certainly won't let this go to my head, that would be ridiculous. No one wants to be around someone who takes them self too seriously.