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@ over BD

Dear Dairy,

I know it's been a while since I last wrote you. I think the last time was during TFC summer camp. I'm sorry it's been so long. I have good reasons for not writing, though. My sister said you shared my secrets with her. I don't want her knowing my secrets. After that, I didn't know if it was safe to trust you. Then she told me that she had read you, and you were worthless. That's when I knew it she didn't know anything. It's her fault for being a sneaky teenage drama queen that doesn't understand your value and makes my and my mother's lives a living hell. Other than that, she's great. So I'm back here writing to you. I still don't want my sister or anyone else reading you without my permission. You hear me, Diary? Nobody. Not even your own mother. I'm going to tell my mom if anyone does. I'm sure she'll put them in the <a href=http://www.konspiracy.org/?action=matchinfo&div=tfc&id=24714>chair</a> for invading my privacy. If anyone is still reading this, you better stop, or !
I'm telling on you!

Now I know it's just you and me, Diary. I know nobody would continue reading after that first paragraph. First, it's too long for most people. Second, they wouldn't wish my mom's torture on themselves.

Today, me and my friends played a couple rounds of TFC with the disgruntled brothers. It was okay and everything even though the brothers <a href=http://s92739903.onlinehome.us/sq/tfc/writeups/07-21-05-bd.html>still</a> don't talk to me. I didn't get a word from any of them today. I think if they went on some anti-depressants and some mood stabilizers, they'd be much happier. They might want to go on one of those anti-anxiety meds too. Maybe then they would be more outgoing and happier. Someone should tell their teachers to tell their parents about modern pharmaceutical options. No one has to suffer sadness like they do. I believe that if they only knew their options, they'd take them. Maybe they like being sad and frustrated though. I really don't know, but I feel bad for them.

So yeah, I played with the brothers today. We went out to the war path and took turns trying to capture each other's territory. My team was pretty good at it. I was surprised at how good we were at it. I figured we would get flattened like little gumbas. You know what gumbas are, right, Diary? If you don't know, gumbas are little mushroom people from a really old game. They get stomped on and flattened a lot. It has something to do with plumbers trying to hook up with a princess. I don't know too many details because it's before my time. You'll have to ask someone much older than me about it, if you want to know more. That kind of history bores me. Really, who likes to play games more than 12 months old anyway? That game is like from a different generation.

Me and my good friend spent most of our time running around the path trying to sneak around the brother's defense and get to points 4 and 5. In old school talk, he was my DJ Jazzy Jeff to my Fresh Prince. They had some serious chasing going on. Engineer chasing. Medic chasing. Even some scout and demoman chasing. It was crazy. Here we were scouting around with 2 or 3 brothers following us everywhere. They followed us to point 4, to point 5, to their first spawn point, even into the bathroom. I don't think they believe in privacy like I do. Maybe they don't believe in the goal of the game. I guess if it eases their pain, I don't have room to talk. Me and my pal almost stopped to explain to them that if they were chasing us to 4 or 5, it was going to be hard for them to get to 1 or 2.

We promised D Leader that we wouldn't talk to the other team during the game this week. We got busted last week for chatting about this girl we both have a crush on to the other team. It turned out it was someone's little sister and he didn't like how we called her "cute" to her face. She was asking for it. She is cute. She smiled and blushed at us and everything. I guess she doesn't get a lot of that at home. Now me and my friend both have the cooties. Next time we'll try something else when we see a cute girl. Having the cooties is awful. Everyone can see them but you, but you still know they're there crawling all over you. Making their home in your unsightly pores. Eww. Cooties!

So me and my friend kept taking shots at the brothers' side of the field even though half their team tried to stop us. We may not be on meds, but we don't get frustrated when challenged.

On our side of the field, my big boned friends kept the point focused brothers from getting to the capture points near our base. I think they struggled a bit at first. They spent a lot of time getting in each other's way, but they worked through it. Then we had a spy that spent the entire round tagging people out of nowhere. He'd pop up behind them and scare them to death. Someone said he should have given the brothers Pampers' pullups before he started being mean like that. He said something about them carrying too much water weight to begin with and that real old men wear Depends.

We also had a sniper with some serious stopping power. She sent at least 100 of their runners back to their starting points. I'll be honest with you, Diary. I got hammered a lot during the game. Me and my running partner must have been stopped 200 times between the two of us. That total was spread out among 9 brothers. So each one stopped us 10 times a round. Our sniper stopped 100 and some change by herself. It was crazy. I think she was tagged 30 times in an hour. Someone should give her a cookie for her performance. Maybe one of the brothers will.

The good part for me was the way the brothers usually stopped me after I recorded the capture. It was really nice of them to let me through like that. I also appreciated the way they would let me camp out on their capture points for a minute or two while I caught my breath. Running is hard sometimes, and sometimes us runners have to take some plays off, just like the 49ers do. Although the brothers I used to hang with didn't recognize me, maybe they secretly remembered me while I jumped all over their base. That would explain why so many chased me around the map. It was their way of saying, "Hi."

I don't mean to sound critical of the brothers, Diary. I like them. I don't understand some of their tactics like turtling when you're already losing, and not having an offense that trusts its defense to stop the other team on its own, and having Red play the role of the heavy when he makes for a good pushing soldier. These things have always been foreign concepts to me, just like respecting your elders simply because they're older than you is foreign. I'm a Gen Yer inside and out, Diary. I'll respect people for what they do, if what they do is impressive. If it's not, I'll feel bad for them. I may even offer them advice. I might even respect them for listening to the advice, but only if they use it to improve themselves. I hope the brothers get better.

I know I'm spoiled, Diary. You could blame my parents, my evil sister, or even me. But at least I'm honest. I call things like I see them. I just happen to see them a little differently than others. Like if I saw an opposing scout sitting near a capture point, I would try to stop him. That's just who I am, though. I understand not everyone is like that. I also wouldn't drop bouncing spy pills on the capture points and in the enemy tunnels. Once again, that's just who I am. Not everyone is like that, and I understand.

When we reversed sides of the field at halftime, it felt like I was running in quicksand. I hope it wasn't that way for the brothers. Lucky for me, my running buddy got his game on and took it to the brothers in ways they didn't see coming. Me, well I got stopped a lot without doing much to help my team. I did have this cool jump to the last capture point where I hopped over their engineer and his sentry and skipped to the final capture point. I spent a lot of time directing traffic. Our engineer told me that he didn't work on my schedule. Can you believe that? If he had been working at my speed, we would have won by even more points. But he and his crew seemed a step slow. Once again, I call it like I see it.

Overall it was a good game. STA thinks we're good too. At least they think we're better than the people we've been playing. I was told that the next time me and my friends get together on a Monday evening we'll be playing in a new division with different teams. I find that scary, Diary. Very scary. We're not that good. I think we all know it.

While we're better than the brothers were tonight, and the sollies were last week, and the dragons the week before, and the zealots were whenever we played them last, we're not very organized. We don't practice. We trip over each other too often. We aren't clear when we try to communicate. We rarely say the right things anyway. We don't have that killer instinct that leads you to have contempt for your opponents. We're like what would happen if you put Yao Ming, Darko Milicic, Oberto, Arvydas Sabonis and Terrell Owens on a basketball court as your starting lineup. No good is going to come of that starting five. Once they stop playing 50 year olds or middle schoolers and teams realize each of the five is doing his own thing without any kind of coordination with the others, they're going to be steamrolled. No guards. Different languages. Different personalities. Maybe even different species. Steamrolled. We're going to get steamrolled in Bronze, Diary. Steam... Rolled...

If the team does move on, a move I hope the powers reconsider before it happens, I hope the kind folk in Copper know how much me and the team cares about them. We all try to give them reasons to wake up in the morning and something to look forward to on a weekly basis. Some say the Copper community finds us "arrogant" or maybe that it thinks we're "Argonauts." Yes, I think it was "Argonauts." They thought we were part of Jason's crew searching for the golden fleas. I don't know why Jason was after blood sucking insects even if they were golden. If I found some golden fleas, I'd be whipping out my can of Raid so fast they wouldn't know what kind of gas hit them. Whatever.

The point is, some people think we're special or maybe they think we're more special than all of the other special people in Copper. The truth is, we're all equally special. My team's great hope is that it has used these writeups to adequately convey how special Copper TFC players are while we've had the honor of hanging with them.

I'm a little choked up at the moment, Diary. I'm glad I can be so open and honest with you. This all needs to stay between you and me though. If it got out and others saw it, they might use it against us. They might start having expectations of us that we can't meet. I hate disappointing people. Like that guy that keeps predicting us to lose week after week. I feel bad for him. If he predicted that we would win week after week and we really lost, I'd feel bad for him then too. Maybe I just feel bad for him all the time. I'm sorry for the life Mr. Prediction Guy leads. It's not easy, but there is help out there for people just like him if things ever start grating on him.

I think that does it, Diary. I covered what happened tonight to the best of my ability. I wish I could write better. I wish I could find the right words. I'll work on it when I have time. I hope the brothers had a good time playing with us. I wish I knew what their take on tonight was. Again, they're not talking to me, but the popular kids never do. That makes me feel sorry for the experiences they're missing out on, but we'll all survive.

Thanks again for listening, Diary. It means a lot to me. I'll try to write again soon, but I can't promise when that'll be.

Always,
Squirrel G.

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