So we were northbound on 57, about 5 miles south of I-80. We are all in J-Ko’s car that he lent us for the weekend. The car was filled with DGN guys, Miles, Joe Sidrys, Domingo, and Eric Thonn. The car is a 2 door coup and Joe is easily 6-3 so he could not even get his feet on the ground because his thighs are so long (picture one). While we are driving, we all hear a thud, and then nothing, the car was doing fine so we kept driving. I changed lanes, but the car did not recover as it should have, I changed lanes again, and this time started making a noise. So I pulled over to the left shoulder and we found the tire to be shredded. Being 5 young strapping college students, we start looking for the spare time which we found in the trunk, but in our search we did not find a lug nut wrench nor a jack. J-ko had screwed us. I call AAA, and they say the wait for a tow truck will be anytime between now (4:00) and 5:10. So we have no other choice but to wait it out. What are 5 frisbee players to do when there is an hour to kill and the trunk if full of Frisbees? Well, you probably guessed it, we threw a disk. The median was large enough for us to throw a Frisbee around. While Miles and I were making phone calls to see if other cars could come pick us up, Joe, Eric and Domingo were practicing their throws.
They started to attract gapers, and not to long after a traffic jam started to form. Everyone but Miles was wearing orange, so we got a lot of encouragement from passersby yelling “Go Illini”, “Go Chief”, and of course “ILL-INI!”. And of course many cars with female drivers were honking at us, but none of them stopped to get a better look at Miles. The tow truck pulled up within half an hour, but because J-Ko has fancy hubcaps, normal lug nut wrench’s don’t fit into the hubcaps, rendering changing the tire on the road impossible. The tow truck says he would tow us, but he can’t fit all 5 of us in his cab, so he tells us to call AAA again to get another tow truck. I call AAA again and this time they say the tow truck will be there between no (4:40) and 5:50.
Joe calls his mom to come pick the three younger kids up, so that the tow truck can drive Miles and I to a tire store in Downers. We all update our parents with our new situation, and while we are doing this a gentleman stops his car dead in the left lane to ask us what happened. We tell him that our tire is flat, so he promptly yells back at us, “WELL FIX IT!” and he drove off. What a concept.
Not to long after we get a visit from the State Police, Illinois’ Finest. He has his lights on and everything, talking on his radio. He pulls up behind us, waves us over, so Miles and I go to talk to him. Our conversation goes as follows.
Officer-in a very serious voice “Two things. One, if I get one more call about you guys playing frisbee, I’m going to give you all tickets.
Miles and I “Yes officer, we’ll stop. Sorry”
Officer-“Two- is there anything I can help you with today?”
Wow what a turn around.
Me- “We just have a flat tire, the tow truck is on the way, we just don’t have a lug nut wrench to do it ourselves.”
Officer-“ Okay, where are you boys coming from?”
Me “We’re from the U of I and were going to an ultimate Frisbee tournament.”
Officer “Ahhh, now I get it. When I was college student I dicked around a lot too, but you really need to not play Frisbee in the middle of the highway. “
Miles and I “ hahah, yeah.”
Officer “So how are you guys doing this year”
Me- “We’re ranked 18th in the nation”
Officer- “Why aren’t you higher? You guys need to pick it up. Are those guys slacking? (pointing to Thonn, Sidrys and Domingo who have no idea what we are talking about)
Those three start to look worried thinking the worst about what the officer will do to them.
Miles-“Haha, yeah, they are mostly rookies, so we are going to this tournament to help them learn.”
Officer- “Okay, well since there really isn’t much I can do for you guys, I’m going to get going. But no more Frisbee, cause the idiots on the road, call the idiot dispatchers who call me, and I don’t want anymore calls. But good luck this weekend”
Miles- “Okay, thanks. Don’t get any flat tires yourself.”
The tow truck comes sometime later and puts the car on the bed, but he doesn’t want to leave anyone on the side of the road, because Joe’s mom is still 25-30 minutes away. So all 5 of us, and the by all means not a skinny driver fit into the cab as he heads towards the nearest gas station to drop of Sidrys, Thonn, and Domingo.
They started to attract gapers, and not to long after a traffic jam started to form. Everyone but Miles was wearing orange, so we got a lot of encouragement from passersby yelling “Go Illini”, “Go Chief”, and of course “ILL-INI!”. And of course many cars with female drivers were honking at us, but none of them stopped to get a better look at Miles. The tow truck pulled up within half an hour, but because J-Ko has fancy hubcaps, normal lug nut wrench’s don’t fit into the hubcaps, rendering changing the tire on the road impossible. The tow truck says he would tow us, but he can’t fit all 5 of us in his cab, so he tells us to call AAA again to get another tow truck. I call AAA again and this time they say the tow truck will be there between no (4:40) and 5:50.
Joe calls his mom to come pick the three younger kids up, so that the tow truck can drive Miles and I to a tire store in Downers. We all update our parents with our new situation, and while we are doing this a gentleman stops his car dead in the left lane to ask us what happened. We tell him that our tire is flat, so he promptly yells back at us, “WELL FIX IT!” and he drove off. What a concept.
Not to long after we get a visit from the State Police, Illinois’ Finest. He has his lights on and everything, talking on his radio. He pulls up behind us, waves us over, so Miles and I go to talk to him. Our conversation goes as follows.
Officer-in a very serious voice “Two things. One, if I get one more call about you guys playing frisbee, I’m going to give you all tickets.
Miles and I “Yes officer, we’ll stop. Sorry”
Officer-“Two- is there anything I can help you with today?”
Wow what a turn around.
Me- “We just have a flat tire, the tow truck is on the way, we just don’t have a lug nut wrench to do it ourselves.”
Officer-“ Okay, where are you boys coming from?”
Me “We’re from the U of I and were going to an ultimate Frisbee tournament.”
Officer “Ahhh, now I get it. When I was college student I dicked around a lot too, but you really need to not play Frisbee in the middle of the highway. “
Miles and I “ hahah, yeah.”
Officer “So how are you guys doing this year”
Me- “We’re ranked 18th in the nation”
Officer- “Why aren’t you higher? You guys need to pick it up. Are those guys slacking? (pointing to Thonn, Sidrys and Domingo who have no idea what we are talking about)
Those three start to look worried thinking the worst about what the officer will do to them.
Miles-“Haha, yeah, they are mostly rookies, so we are going to this tournament to help them learn.”
Officer- “Okay, well since there really isn’t much I can do for you guys, I’m going to get going. But no more Frisbee, cause the idiots on the road, call the idiot dispatchers who call me, and I don’t want anymore calls. But good luck this weekend”
Miles- “Okay, thanks. Don’t get any flat tires yourself.”
The tow truck comes sometime later and puts the car on the bed, but he doesn’t want to leave anyone on the side of the road, because Joe’s mom is still 25-30 minutes away. So all 5 of us, and the by all means not a skinny driver fit into the cab as he heads towards the nearest gas station to drop of Sidrys, Thonn, and Domingo.
7 comments:
No more stories...I want Glory Days recap blogger.
You guys shoulda thrown a disc at that cop.
Could Cozza be the blogger?!?
As this post was written in the first person and Cozza was the driver, he is at least an accomplice. I doubt the blogger would give up his identity so easily. No doubt Cozza had to write down during Math class and drop it off at the secret drop box at the Union, per the instructions of the secret blogger.
He probably used one of those voice distortion boxes when he called Cozza on the phone too. I imagine it was kind of like the Die Hard movie with Samuel L. Jackson.
Let's not get confused. The Blogger != Cozza. This is obviously a story submitted to the blogger and posted by the blogger. The blogger wouldn't make such a bumbling mistake to give up his anonynimity after so painstakingly kept it a secret.
You may now change your votes again.
!= means does not equal, just in case, for those not so notation savvy
I dont think the blogger would so easily give up his identity either, but no where in the post does the blogger attribute the article to Cozza and the blogger obviously has some ties to team x and cozza played for team x...huh...think about that one zubs
pretty sure it's a submitted story guys
-alien
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