pink shirts.

Friday was the annual MBA Games, which pits every section against each other in traditional (football, softball, v-ball) and not-so-traditional (kickball, dodgeball, briefcase-tossing) athletic endeavors. Basically, it's a chance for MBA1s to run around a field all day, pretending to be 16 years old. It's also an excuse to spend the next 48 hours in sheer agony.

I originally signed up to play one v-ball game and captain the kickball squad. But what *actually* happened was as follows:

8:30a-->Arrive at the field. Stretch out.
9:00a-->First v-ball game. We win a tough one in three sets.
10:00a->Get dragged onto the dodgeball "court" to have rubber balls thrown at my head for 20 minutes.
10:25a->A scheduling surprise reveals that we have another v-ball game. Back to the court to win a tough one in three sets.
11:00a->Kickball field. Lose a heartbreaker, 6-5.
12:00p->Wolf down three inches of sandwich and chug a gatorade.
12:30p->Begin complaining about blisters.
1:00p-->V-ball semifinals. We lose in three sets to the team we beat at 10:00a.
2:00p-->Pulled onto the softball field to do my best Bill Buckner impersonation. We lose in the finals.

So we came in last place, which means the MBA1s in Section 5 next year will wear pink shirts in the MBA Games. Sucks to be them...err, us.

Of course, no MBA Games would be complete without a stinky group of sectionmates invading a local watering hole. And it looks like this...

(who stinks? we stink!)

Better luck next time!