The Univitational.

Yeah, you know it. You wanted to be here. In the JC, where you can see New York City but don’t have to smell it. Where you can order paella for two and feed six. Where something happened that one time. Yeah, that place.

HBT and Der Tyrant, that’s me, officially opened the 2014 season here at The Danger Zone by not inviting all of you lantern-jawed yokels to a wonderful tournament. It was bright, beautiful day, perhaps, when the first tournament held in New Jersey kicked off. The new, battleship gray pitch proved to be a splendidly quick and perfect surface for sexy goals and stylish saves. You cannot imagine just how exciting the action was. Try it. Close your eyes. Smell the fresh baked cookies, feel the pleasant warmth from our gigantic, pre-wars radiators. Hear the gentle drag of the ball across the supple, billiard felt. Taste the magic of Jersey City oxygen, like licking Aphrodite’s neck, which tastes just like blue cotton candy for some reason. Lick it! Yep, a truly magical, once in a lifetime event. It was so … words fail me.

It was such a special event the we didn’t even invite the official 1^st & 4^th “Time” Keeper and she lives here. Like in this very apartment.

By the end of the tournament, a tournament so great it can never be repeated, HBT proved victorious. I decided to protest his victory, thus making it an official tournament according to our club bylaws.

Here are the deets:

Tournament winner: HBT
Der Tyrant’s Whip: Der Tyrant
Golden Boot: HBT
Black Hole Hands: HBT
President’s Cup: na

From Legacy to Legend…

… in one year. Yes, it’s true, the greatest of all Subbuteo legacy players of the 1^st & 4^th Club achieved the status of legend. Der Tyrant, who I know and really love, won two classics in the last, what, eight or nine months? Yes, two. And yes, he did have help from his inestimable teammates. And yes, he is writing in the third person. That’s just how impressive he/I have become. Just be glad he’s not using the royal “we”.

Anyway, yeah, I rule.

First there was the 4^th Tournament, held in the balmy conditions of the Schettler family carriage house on the wee hours of the night of the day of our nation’s birth, or something like that. Paired with Kaitlyn, previous winner of the mid-summer classic, the we rolled over our opponents like nobody’s bidness. Fingers were flying, goals were scored, saves were made. I think I drank eighteen Capri Sun packets just to keep my fluid level at normal for fear of dying of dehydration. The night passed in such a brutal haze that the only thing I recall, besides hoisting the most bedazzled of trophies over my head was when HBT, upon losing his last game, left the garage… taking the ball with him. Truly whip-ish behavior. But anyway, Kaitlyn and I kicked bootie.

Then there was the 1^st Tournament, held in the climate controlled basement of the Michael Rauenzahn Bio-dome of Cutting Edge Snack Products. Apparently, it was cold outside, but who could think of such things while the members of the 1^st & 4^th were launching fiery shots across the pitch? Not me, that’s for damn sure. I was too focused on bringing heroic victory to my fans and loyal supporters. At first, I was a tad bit worried as I was paired with Dutch. In previous tournaments, our team was a recipe for penultimate failure. We play like golden gods only lose to some other “team” in the final game. But like all good Disney movies involving chimps and ice skating, we used our underdog status… underchimp status, maybe?... to destroy the opposition in match after match. Again, the night passed so quickly that I can’t recall much. Though I do remember getting scored upon by Dirty Nacho at the end of one period on a totally bogus corner kick thing… which is why I don’t believe it actually happened. That hardly matters now. These days, I can rest my magnificent laurels, one on each trophy, in clouds of glory, the kind usually reserved for Greek heroes or celebrities who survive a lot of plastic surgery and end up on the cover of People showing off their new bikini body.

Trust me, when I arrive to defend my title this July, you’ll see all kinds of wonderful, tyrant-y bikini action. So much so you might be forced to wonder if it’s a bikini atoll.

I am a legend. Suck it, world.

The Greatest Tourney Ever ... that you won't be at

That's right. Unless you live in Jersey City, you won't make the field. Oh, go ahead, try to make it if you can ... but you won't, because you can't. So today, without you, we'll be playing the Inaugural Jersey City Mid-winter Unvitational. Snubbed by the Schettler clan, the Deckers (North) decided to have their own little tournament this weekend.

Der Tyrant and HBT will square off on their DIY smog-grey pitch, the first tournament to feature this iconic felt. They'll play not for a tournament purse, trophy, or even a cause--but bragging rights alone.

To save time, we've edited a past photo of the 1st & 4th Club to reflect the anticipated participants:

May the best man win! (There are only two after all ...)

Russell Brand: Honorary Club Member

Members of the 1st & 4th Club, allow me to introduce our newest (honorary) member: actor/comedian/author Russell Brand.

Considering he's witty, smart, and sexy (a dangerous combination to which all 1st 4th-ers aspire, but so few of us achieve), it's really a wonder that Russell Brand didn't receive this distinguished honour years ago. But it was only mere days ago that his passion for our beloved past-time came to light. For you see, Mr. Brand is indeed a brilliant dilettante, and yet among his myriad pursuits, Subbuteo remains close to his heart.

Whilst waxing poetic on the soon-to-be-beatified Sir Alex Ferguson, Mr. Brand let slip that Subbuteo was among his childhood hobbies:

I can just about remember [Ferguson's] appointment in the 80s; I would likely have enacted it through my voodoo Subbuteo rituals, which always had more peripheral theatricality than other boys'. Managers were not provided by the manufacturers so I'd outsource the role to Star Wars figures. They were as disposable and interchangeable as their human counterparts and often more discerning in the transfer market. [my italics]

So not only is Mr. Brand a rabid fan of his own football side (West Ham) and quick to lionize SAF, he's a former Subbuteo enthusiast who actually used Star Wars figurines on the sidelines--a proud tradition in our own club. We welcome you to that elite Club, Mr. Brand. You'll soon consider yourself lucky to have your celebrity associated with the many noble causes this Club endorses--which will then receive a notable boost due to your notoriety. (It's win-win!) So, consider yourself invited to our next tourney. And please feel free to bring along your gf (win-win-win!)