Who knew the express train was so express? Instead of paying attention to the local versus express train, some of our team members (Hanly and Marlina, ahem) hopped onto the D train in prep for a game of Kubb.

Hanly “Isn’t that our stop.”
Marlina “Yeah, I guess we’ll get out at the next one.”
Passing the Natural History Museum…
Hanly “Hmm, I guess we’ll get out at the next one.”
Marlina’s jaw starts to drop open. “Um, how far is this going to take us?:
Hanly “I think we’re going to Harlem.” Hanly jumps up to check the map. “This takes us to 125th st.”
Marlina “Uh, I guess we’ll transfer back downtown.”
The braniac duo head downtown on another D train from 125th street back to Lincoln Center to hop on a B train. The next B turns into an express train and the girls quickly decided against boarding. A half hour late to the field and cameras everywhere filming, wait for it, wait for it, Night at the Museum…2, Kubb begins.

There was a very definite uphill/downhill advantage going on at the field but The FADER still managed to lose to L’Oreal in the dark despite the final game with an uphill advantage. There were several questionable side-swing throws coming from L’Oreal but L’Oreal asked FADER to excuse the throws due to inebriation. One of FADER’s hardcore competitive players began to argue and walked away to avoid confrontation and punches. (She is easily riled.) Fair? I think not.

We did have our moments of brilliance with Matt nailing a Kubb or two and our moments of idiocy with Suzan, get the dog out of your hands and focus moments! Cara proved her athletic prowess as usual. Marlina and Gabe rallied to play soccer to let the true competitive and athletic skills unleash. Kaela glared at struggling teammates and Hanly took off her Sauconys to get a feel for the grass.

We capped off our night outside the museum by watching bugs drawn to the lights sizzle to their death.

There are plenty of chosen people on the FADER Saucony team, but apparently we missed out on the whole upstate summer camp sports circuit that so accurately trained our friends at HEEB Magazine. Biding by tested flag-capturing strategies—from hiding the flag in their pants to the ole’ captive prisoner flag handoff—Heeb out-tricked Asstricks, in an ironic turn of events.

But this was no Meatballs, and our Tripper was nowhere to be found. More like a certain conflict in a certain little area of the Middle East, this was a dirty, brutal war of land encroachment and senseless bickering. Did you know that the boundaries extended into the woods? I sure didn’t. People get hurt in the woods, people. Let’s not forget it.

In conclusion, capture the flag was a lot more fun when we were spry and innocent ten year olds without the jaded awareness of magazine editors in between smoke breaks, working on our third can of Coors Light in a brown bag.

After an amazing display of athletic prowess in game one, The FADER approached the field with a confidence and hunger in the eye for redemption. After two full weeks of practice twice daily and numerous 20 minute episodes spent enduring the freezing temperatures of an ice bath, we rebounded together. We were a team.

Some of us were interpretive danced while rounding third base while others showed skill by diving and rolling in the grass to catch balls and tag players out.

Chace Crawford joined us for a post-game beer at Blondies. That’s right folks. You heard it here first. Not long after Chace’s departure, we offered a peace trade with the Onion. In exchange for a pitcher of beer, a delectable plate of wings was tossed between tables.

Get on the donkey.

Some of us ran to the wrong base. Some of us pitched 15 times before getting it over the plate. Some of us swung and missed. Some of us slid into first base. Together, we did not score a run.

Some of us laughed at ourselves. Some of us cringed in anger and astonishment. Some of us heckled. Some of us were heckled. Together, we accepted our defeat and vowed to practice. Our initial team fumble was bitterly harsh. We were outplayed.

Props goes to our player of the game. She may intimidate, but she damn well knows how to intimidate with grace.

Yes, we love our shoes too!

Crying is overplayed. Peel out.

Well, meet some of us. We can be kinda tricky.