It was indescribable. It was more than perfect. YHC didn’t know what to expect on this Labor Day morning after a destructive IPC Saturday, and at 5:14 sitting with Pope in an empty parking lot, we thought maybe we’d be going back to bed to keep nursing our wounded muscles and pride. But, we could never have expected the overwhelming gift, the perfect storm of perfectness that lay ahead. Diddle pulled in as the clock struck 5:15, and it…it…began.
To try put into human words, even in these sacred annals, the blessed events that occurred, that washed over and through us this morning, would be an unforgiveable blasphemy and would leave you, dear reader, in the same awe-struck paralysis of wonder that YHC has been lost in these past three hours. (I just regained use of my hand, and what a tragedy, what a heartbreak to have to come back to what is now a world of mediocrity).
It is clear that what we experienced was the greatest beatdown that has ever occurred, that will every occur, that could ever possibly occur. And, to even keep speaking about it would…would……
Fitness. Fellowship. Faith.
