[Editor's Note: I'm always looking for more mailbag stuff, so if you have a question or a story or whatever, please email me at thruby@yahoo.com. You can write about whatever you want, we can talk about butt stuff or how much you hate your wife, but if you write in with something like that, please know I will use your name unless you tell me not to. Thanks. - Taylor]

 

Something kind of incredible happened when I asked people for emails for a mailbag. I didn't expect anyone to write anything at all (and most people proved me right!), but I actually got a couple emails. And wouldn't you know it, they were really good! Seriously! But I'm just starting with one, so I'm going to let Jason Arvin set this up:

 

“When I was a junior and you were a senior you started a Madden tournament. Justin and I tried to help out as much as we could, but you were the man and put everything on. You even got a meeting for the Madden tournament members during school hours where we all left class for about 20 minutes!” [cut for dramatic effect]

 

When I was a senior in high school, I was pretty much hellbent on doing anything other than school work. Actually, when I was a student in school I was pretty much hellbent on doing anything other than school work. We had a hockey league (which I'm sure I'll write about eventually), I was playing drums in Five Star Fracture seemingly every weekend and practicing when we weren't playing shows, I was playing way too many video games and I just wanted to hang out with everyone all the time. Those last two spawned the greatest bad idea I've ever had: a 32 man Madden Tournament.

 

As you may or may not know, there are 32 teams in the NFL, so we had to find 32 dudes who were stupid enough to sign up for an all day, double elimination (WHY?!) tournament . It was a ridiculous task to say the least, but somehow, we did it. We fielded a full 32 man crew and, if I recall, we even had some dudes on a waiting list of sorts. I made a website where kids could see what teams were open and check out the bracket. I spread the word around and, like Jason said, I kissed someone's ass enough to get one of my teachers to give us 20 minutes out of a period for a “Madden tournament meeting”. I'm sure that teacher was just trying to get me away from him/her, but it worked and the 32 of us got out of a little class for my efforts. I was like a real life Andy Dufresne.

 

My mom was married to a dude at the time who had a big old shop and he was cool enough to let 32 dumb ass kids sit in it all day long. We had 32 dudes and a place to put them. We pooled together a bunch of old tube TVs, figured out who was bringing Playstation 2s and copies of Madden, had some pop and chips and I think a plan to order some pizzas. Everything was set up for an unbelievable day.

 

Then one person ruined it all, at least for me.

 

That someone had this bright idea of sleeping out in the shop the night before. We set up a few TVs and I think around 6 to 8 people were out there the night before. We played some other games, a few people played some Madden to get ready, I played Grand Theft Auto. I specifically remember someone playing “ECCO the Dolphin”. I'm relatively sure the person playing “ECCO” was the person who suggested we sleep in the shop. I should have had that person arrested right then and there. I slept on a love seat or some such tiny couch. Some people slept on the concrete, god bless 'em.

 

I don't remember what time we started, but it was right around when the few of us that braved the night woke up. So I'm already going on around 10 hours of being out in the shop. We had 8 TVs going, 16 guys playing at once. Pretty much everyone who wasn't playing floated around to watch the first round match-ups. I lost my first game, but i can't remember who beat me. I know I had Chris Barstad in my second matchup and I'm relatively sure he didn't know much about football back then. But then again, maybe he did because he was beating me at the 2 minute warning. I remember needing a touchdown to win, so he must have been up 6 or less.

 

The crowd around us was rather large. We had a nice little ritual of barking out whenever something cool was going down on a TV and most people would pause their game and gather around. I had to score a touchdown, with under 2 minutes, from about 70 yards away with the terrible Cleveland Browns. If you don't know anything about the '05-'06 Browns (hell, pick any iteration of the Browns and they were bad), I assure you this was a daunting task. I could lie to you and try and recap it all, but I do remember this: I got tackled on his 10 yard line with no timeouts left and that was that. The clock ran out and I was eliminated. The hero doesn't always win, folks. It was probably 4 o'clock, so I had been in that shop for probably close to 20 hours. I was done. I tried to play some Halo, I tried to play some (real life, non video game) pool, but I was ready to go inside and lay in my bed and stop listening to so many people talking way louder than they would ever need to be. Luckily for me, there was still a lot of tournament remaining!

 

Jason Arvin and Justin Benson met in the championship at around 10 p.m. That was well over 24 hours for me, without a doubt. I had probably left that shop for a cumulative 45 minutes in that span. Then, I heard the worst thing I'd heard since someone said, 'hey, we should sleep out here the night before the tournament' -- 'Wait a minute. This is a double elimination tournament, so Jason has to beat me twice, right?' Justin Benson hadn't lost yet. I could have stabbed both of the them in the heart right then and there and went and curled up in my bed and figured out what to do with their bodies the next morning. And wouldn't you know? Jason wins the first game. Of course he did. I could have cried. Hell, I may have. Jason had to win again and he did. That was that. Mercifully. Let's bring Jason back in to wrap this up:

 

[continued from earlier] “Anyway, I want to tell you about what I did with the trophy I won. (I looked desperately online for a picture of it but couldn't find it anywhere.) It was a porcelain figurine of a little hunter boy and his dog with black Sharpie on it that said: "2005 Madden Tournament Champion". About 3 years after the Madden tournament we were doing some remodeling in our kitchen and we had to cut open a wall to move some plumbing. While we had the wall opened up I suggested we put some stupid crap in it so when the next person comes around to remodeling they find this dumb little hunter boy figurine with Sharpie on it.

 

My parents moved out of that house in 2011 and have since moved again to Kentucky. So I guess we will never know if anyone ever sees that thing again!”

 

- Jason Arvin

 

I also looked for a picture. Think of something your grandma would sell at a rummage sale and you might be close. Justin Benson said he still has a “deep emotional wound” from losing that night and all Jason Arvin had to show for his victory was a really dumb trophy. But he earned that trophy and I really hope someday someone cracks open that wall and is supremely confused at a porcelain boy and his dog, with the words, "2005 Madden Tournament Champion" on it, staring right back at them.

 

Huge thanks to Jason Arvin for the email and Justin Benson, the Madden Tournament Historian, for keeping me honest. Or, you know, as honest as I could be given that this happened a decade ago and I tried desperately to erase it from my memory the very moment I lost my second game.