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AFM over cD

Prior to our match, our fearless leader gave the following speech to improve morale.

`Men, this stuff that some sources sling around about AFM wanting out of TFC, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. AFM loves to fight, traditionally. All real AFMers love the sting and clash of battle. You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, everyone of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the fastest runner, the toughest boxer, the big league ball players, and the All-American football players. AFM loves a winner. AFM will not tolerate a loser. AFM despises cowards. AFM plays to win all of the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why AFM has never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to AFM.

You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would die in a major battle. Death must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first match. If he says he's not, he's a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get the hell slammed out of them watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his Clan, and his innate manhood. A TFC match is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. AFMers pride themselves on being He Men and they ARE He Men. Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are !
not supermen.

All through your TFC careers, you men have bitched about what you call "chicken shit Practicing". That, like everything else in this Clan, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a damn for a man who's not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn't be here. You are ready for what's to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you're not alert, sometime, an enemy son of a bitch is going to sneak up behind you and beat you to death with a sockful of shit!

There are four hundred neatly marked losses somewhere in the KSE match history. All because one man went to sleep on the job. But they are enemy losses, because we caught the bastard asleep before they did. A Clan is a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horse shit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Catacombs don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking!

We have the finest website, the finest training, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. By God, I do.

Our men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command resupplying unless he has been killed. Even if you are hit, you can still fight back. That's not just bullshit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like the Scout in the Well flagroom, who, with an autocannon against his chest, jerked out his crowbar, swept aside the gun with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Heavy Weapons Guy with the c'bar. Then he jumped on the single shotgun and went out and killed another Soldier before the Defense knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man!

All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this clan plays a vital role. Don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every Spy or Demoman suddenly decided that he didn't like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a ditch? The cowardly bastard could say, "Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in nine". But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our country, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Goddamnit, AFMers don't think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this Clan. The Engineers are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The Medic is needed to bring up food and medicine because where we are go!
ing there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man on our roster has a job to do, even the one who hosts our HLTV to keep us from getting disputed.

Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don't want yellow cowards in this Clan. They should be killed off like rats. If not, they will go to IRC after this match and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the Goddamned cowards and we will have a Clan of brave men. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was an Engineer on top of a Sentry Gun in the midst of a furious fire fight on 2fort. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, "Fixing the SG, Sir". I asked, "Isn't that a little unhealthy right about now?" He answered, "Yes Sir, but the Goddamned SG has to be fixed". I asked, "Don't those medics strafing your gun bother you?" And he answered, "No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!" Now, there was a real man. A real AFMer. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter !
how great the odds. And you should have seen that Offense on the way to the 2fort flagroom. Those Medics were magnificent. All day and all night they conced over those son-of-a-bitching defenders, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with mirvs and rockets bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old AFM guts. Many of those men have played for over three consecutive years. These men weren't combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable.

Don't forget, you men don't know that I'm here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any forums. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this Clan. I'm not even supposed to be here. Let the first bastards to find out be the Goddamned enemy. Some day I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, 'Jesus Christ, it's the Goddamned Alcoholic Fragging Machine again and that son-of-a-fucking-bitch JoseyWales"

We want to get the hell up there to TFL Pro. The quicker we clean up this Goddamned league, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing STA and clean out their nest, too. Before the Goddamned "Top 15" clans get all of the credit.

Sure, we want to go home. We want this match over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who challenged us. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. The shortest way home is through TFL Pro and STA Titanium. And when we get to TFL Pro, I am personally going to shoot that forum-changing son-of-a-bitch Lich. Just like I'd shoot a snake!

When a man is lying in his base, if he just stays there all day, an enemy will get to him eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don't turtle. I don't want them to. Turtling only slows up an offensive. Keep moving. And don't give the enemy time to dig in either. We'll win this match, but we'll win it only by fighting and by showing the Enemy that we've got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the barrels of our rocket launchers. We're going to murder those lousy bastards by the bushel-fucking-basket. TFC is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When mirvs are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, yo!
u'll know what to do!

I don't want to get any messages saying, "I am holding my position." We are not holding a Goddamned thing. Let the enemy do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy's balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him ALL of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to cap flags and to keep on capping regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like crap through a goose; like shit through a tin horn!

From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our people too hard. I don't give a good Goddamn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more enemy we will kill and the more flags we will cap. The more enemy we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that.

There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this mod is dead and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty years from now when you are sitting by the fireplace with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in TFC, you WON'T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, "Well, your Granddaddy spammed respawns in Area51Live." No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, "Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Great Alcoholic Fragging Machine and a Son-of-a-Goddamned-Bitch named JoseyWales!"

The match went off with a bang. The first round of the match AFM got the only scrum of the night. The second half saw cD slowly dig into the AFM lead.

Round2, cD came back with a vengence and pretty much held the lead til the last ten minutes of the match, when we made a few adjustments and slowly took the lead back.

GG cD. It was definitely fun playing such a classy clan. Looking forward to the next matchup.

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