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A yearly trip with the college squad is essential for maintaining both friendships and your own sanity in post-grad life. You all may drift to different cities, get married, pop out kids, actually turn into semi-functional human beings, but you’ve got to have your get together to reminisce on the fun of your youth and behave like idiots.
Whether it’s your school’s homecoming, an alumni game for athletes, or just a trip you set up each year, it goes through various stages of planning and feedback. It’s kind of like a new business plan being implemented if that plan’s end goal was to have a bunch of old dudes end up drunk at an IHOP at 3 a.m. one weekend.
Stage 1: The Beginning
Three to five months out, the designated group ringleader will send out the alarm that the band is getting back together.
Alright guys, Alumni Weekend set for (insert date here). Everyone needs to come, been too long since we’ve all been idiots together. Also no one tell Chris.
The group text starts firing up, with guys either RSVPing or backing out for various reasons.
Booking my flight tonight bro!
I’m out, brother is getting married that weekend.
I mean, I still live here, so I’ll be there.
I’ve been sober for seven months and being around you guys isn’t a good idea right now.
I’m not golfing for money if Tyler shows up trying to say he’s a fucking 16 handicap again
Don’t bring your wife and kids again Jeff.
You’ll banter a bit and maybe mention some things gone wrong from year’s past (“Hey Ryan, maybe don’t try to drink a beer-per-hole at the golf tourney this time.”) but you’ve got months to go, so things die down.
Stage 2: The Build-Up
About a month out, plans start being set in stone. Housing arraignments get brought up, money begins to get collected, and predictions are made.
Anyone called dibs on Steve’s couch yet? If not, dibs.
I just got a cheap hotel, not like we’re gonna spend much time there anyways, figured it was easier.
Yeah Brad, I’m sure you got the hotel across the street from the strip club because it was easier.
You idiots know we have to pay for golf beforehand right? And you have to buy into the low-net bet before you tee off, or you’re DQ’d. No changing your mind about being in the bet at the turn, talking to you Casey you sketchy fuck.
I’ll give you a bet, who wants to bet Drew gets escorted out of Black Gold before last call on Saturday after the football game?
Coach is hooking up the football tickets, right? I’m not paying to watch that team play.
Anyone want to get an AirBnB?
Now it feels real, and the prospect of what that weekend will bring starts to be your light at the end of the tunnel through sales meetings and your kids four-year-old soccer games.
Stage 3: The Weekend
The texts during the weekend itself are hectic, almost always about the immediate plan or location. Occasionally, a summary of what’s going on for those who aren’t directly witnessing it.
Well guys, we almost made it 9 before Brandon hurled a club into the water.
What time are we going to dinner? And where are we going?
I think Garrett is dead. Hasn’t moved from the bed since we got home from golf. Out for the count tonight.
No, Jeff, your wife and kids can’t fucking come to dinner. I knew you’d try to ruin this.
Guys I can’t make it to tailgate, I’ve thrown up three times already this morning, I’ll just meet y’all at the game.
Nevermind I’m coming to tailgate.
You guys realize no one has seen Elliot since like 3pm yesterday?
You guys see the volleyball girls at the tailgate? Should we ask them what bar they’ll be at tonight.
Dude your kids are almost as old as them.
We’re not going to the football game, I’m afraid I’ll throw up on the person in front of me, let us know what the plan is after.
You guys realize we look like the oldest, saddest sacks of shit in this bar right?
Ubering back to Steve’s house in 10 min if anyone wants to go. Yes, I know it’s only 1130.
Anyone seen Beau? Guy couldn’t string a complete sentence together 45 minutes ago.
Beau’s wife just texted me, he made it home and passed in their entryway.
Anyone who’s still up, we’re going to IHOP!!!
Stage 4: The Aftermath
The aftermath is all just different wording of one united message:
There’s no fucking way I’m doing this again next year.