“We were surrounded by ‘em. I saw no easy way out, but I knew there was something. Some way. Besides, only the dead are sent to hell, right?” –John Fuller, Sr. (DECEASED)
Meet Captain Fuller. A member of the US Army for 23 years, he was killed in an ambush while serving in Afghanistan. His son, John Jr., was not aware of this for many years, as his mother had already remarried by the time the poor child was one. After growing up in a house where the only thing his stepdad would say was “Where is my beer?!?”, he ran away for a day, only to be found by the police and brought home. His mother then told him about poor Captain Fuller, and gave ‘JJ’ a box of his father’s things. Inside was the normal stuff; pictures, an old baseball mitt, an unloaded (he was sure to check twice) Glock, a shoe—a shoe. A rotted out, old, plastic, cleated shoe. He then remembered that his dad was wearing these in a picture. Whilst also wearing spandex two or three sizes too small, and a bike was in the background of the photo. 1988. John Jr. was 18 now, and it had been as long that his dad had died. He always wished that he would have a bike, to see his friends and feel the breeze. But his mother disapproved of cycling of any kind, and John Jr. never learned how to keep his balance on anything other than two feet. Until today. His mother was out shopping, and ole Phil the stepdad was out having another affair under the guise of a “business trip”. So, without further staring, he looked around the house for what felt like hours to him, and after eight and a half minutes of hard searching, he was hungry. However, as he approached the kitchen, he stopped. Peering across the room, he saw a closet he hadn’t checked. Looking inside and turning on the light, he rubbed his eyes thrice to believe himself. A 1980s Trek was sitting there, tires flat. And that, is where our story begins…
Mounting the bicycle, he realized that you can’t ride on metal, and so he had to walk to the nearest gas station to get air. A few quarters in pocket, he set off for the 7-Eleven down the street. After filling the tires to what he called “puffy”, he mounted the bike, and collapsed. Time after time, for five whole minutes he could not set off. But then suddenly, it clicked. The wheels began to turn, and he departed down the road, discovering gear after gear after gear of power. He checked his watch, and realized mom would be home soon. Dashing inside, and storing the bike away, he plotted about how to get his things on a bike, and what his master escape would be.
It was time to go. Three weeks of practicing, and finally had cycling down. A natural, following in his father's footsteps, However little to his knowledge. After packing everything he could into a massive backpack, he set off as soon as his mom left for work that day. No goodbyes. No regrets. He had brought as much money as he could with him, which was just over one thousand dollars, stolen from his family and his own wallet. Fifty miles out of the town, and two hours later, his phone rang. His mom was calling. Denying the call, he quickly made off again, hoping for a nearby rest stop. His phone continued to ring as the sun set over the plains of Texas. He knew he would need power to keep his phone charged, and so, after six hours in the saddle, and ninety-seven miles down the road, he collasped into a small service station. Tired and on his last wit, he slept, holding the bike to his chest. He thought in his dreams about his father, and what amazing experiences that old John Fuller Sr. must have enjoyed aboard the Trek. But, morning finally came, and the Twinkies he purchased for the next leg of his escape from hell would be vital. He had read that sugar was really important for endurance, and so he ate what he could, and set off. Within a couple hours, he saw a new sign: WELCOME TO OKLAHOMA. He did it. He made it out. Even though he was surrounded by those who said he couldn't he knew that only the evil could rot in hell. He had to keep going. He had to succeed. And then, coming to another friendly 7-Eleven, he stopped and rested for lunch. This is where he met Sam.
Sam was a fellow on a ride across the country. His goal, in the end, was to prove to a new UCI manager that he would be the perfect fit for that team. So, from then on, the two rode together. Through Oklahoma, down into New Mexico and Arizona, and then they started to gather up more endurance. John Jr. had now been eleven days from home, and he missed his mom. It was a long time to be without any family, and so, when the duo stopped right before they hit Nevada, he called home. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. No answer. Then on the second try, a surly voice came over the line. He immediately hung up, and tried the cellular device his mom carried instead. In less than a second, his mother's sorrowful voice came through. They chatted for over an hour, his mom constantly asking if he would come home, and finally she added "and give up that stupid bike!" That was the end of John's patience. He said I love you, and terminated the call instantly. And so, Sam and John made it to California within a few more days. Finally, after nineteen straight days on the bike, John stopped. He was down to just eight hundred dollars or so, and he knew he needed a job, or something at least. Sam went to go meet the big boss guy of this new cycling team, and John decided to tag along just to see what everything was about. They stopped at yet another 7-Eleven before riding in to speak with "The Big Cheese". The man inquired about John's appearance here, and Sam explained that the two had ridden together for the past seventeen days. Impressed, the man still only known as "the guy in charge", asked John all sorts of questions about himself, and finally introduced himself as Tom Jones, some hotshot new millionaire looking to run a sports team. John knew something was up, but even he couldn't have guessed what happened next.
Tom Jones, the Tom Jones, popped the question. "How would you like to come on board this squad?" And that was it. All within thirty seconds, John Fuller Jr. was a professional(sort of) cyclist. And all it took was nineteen days of countryside escape to get there.With that, John decided it was time. Time to call home. "Mom?" he softly said into the cell phone. All he heard on the other side was weeping, and he cried too. They talked for what must have been hours, because Sam got worried that something had happened. They got off the line, and John was introduced to the team, or what was there thus far. Gary Rochester, Bob Dylan, Gabe Newell, Patrick Lombardo, and Harry Tyles. Of course, Sam and soon to be John were also on the team, but Big Banana Tom was still working on recruits. Then, Tom came back with the contract options.
It was almost time. Evaluation day was tomorrow, and everything was riding on tomorrow. It was all about cycling now. Nothing else mattered, and John knew it deeply. He turned over for rest, and slept until the next morning. 0500. The alarm clock blared, and he jumped out of bed, suiting up fast as light. It was go time. He went down to the meeting place, where his new bike awaited him, along with generic biking gear, more suited to his new profession. Actually getting suited now, he hopped on the sleek new saddle, and warmed up. Finally, his name was called for the evaluation. 3. 2. 1. And he set off, giving as much sped as he could in to the opening sprint, his first test. Then, he was off to the nearby cobblestone setup, and he raced across them without falling. Then the mountain, then the hills test. It was hard work, but his final test was upon him. A one hour stretch on the warm up rollers. He knew he had to gauge his energy, but how much? What bursts should he give? He didn't know, but he went. Went faster than he had ever gone before. This was his dream. His passion. And little to his knowledge, his father's passion as well. After he was finished, he went back to his snazzy team motel room, and waited to hear the results. It took hours. The team collectively wouldn't speak, and sat in silence, waiting for the evaluation slips to see how they could be expected to be placed in the roster. Finally, the slips came. John broke the seal, and grabbed the report.
A small team, but it was something. Of course the sponsor was undecided, but there were a few negotiations going on. Time to go, came the call from Tom Jones. And with that, the team gazed upon a brand new bus, unlike anything the team had ever seen before, being amateur riders, or in John's case, unknown start-ups. John was called to the side for a moment before the team headed off to what Tom called "another surprise". "Are you sure you're ready for this? It's only been a couple months since you first saddled up." To which John replied, "I was born ready. It runs through my blood, I can feel it." And the bus, was off.
After seventeen hours on the bus, the team finally arrived at their destination. Breckenridge, Colorado, home of the new cycling centre just for team 7-Eleven Cycling! A gasp and awed exhale came from deep within John's torso. He knew he had made something of himself. He was going to be the best. The best, around, and nothing was ever gonna bring him down!
It was time for the team sponsor to be revealed. Everyone gathered in the well-sized conference room, and got ready for the announcement. The members of the conference talked about the goals, the future of the team, blah blah blah, and then finally, it was the announcement. "The sponsor for the team this year will be--"
After the official announcements, John was called aside by Tom Jones again. "I'm sorry, but the administration doesn't approve of your contract. You're going to have to stay with a one-year deal." John was OK with this, though slightly confused. Whatever the issue was, he didn't care. He was happy to be here. Tom also handed him his final statistic evaluation sheet.
And on that note, the season turned to January. Time to start cycling.
Edited by NTTHRASH on 11-02-2014 21:05
"America. Show a nipple on television and the whole country goes ape-shit." -DubbelDekker
baseballlover312, 06-03-14 : "Nuke Moscow...Don't worry Russia, we've got plenty of love to go around your cities"
Sarah Palin, 08-03-14 (CPAC, on Russian aggression) : "The only thing that stops a bad guy with a nuke is a good guy with a nuke"
Big thanks to jdog for making this AMAZING userbar!
Mounting the bicycle, he realized that you can’t ride on metal, and so he had to walk to the nearest gas station to get air. A few quarters in pocket, he set off for the 7-Eleven down the street. After filling the tires to what he called “puffy”, he mounted the bike, and collapsed. Time after time, for five whole minutes he could not set off. But then suddenly, it clicked. The wheels began to turn, and he departed down the road, discovering gear after gear after gear of power. He checked his watch, and realized mom would be home soon. Dashing inside, and storing the bike away, he plotted about how to get his things on a bike, and what his master escape would be.
"America. Show a nipple on television and the whole country goes ape-shit." -DubbelDekker
It was time to go. Three weeks of practicing, and finally had cycling down. A natural, following in his father's footsteps, However little to his knowledge. After packing everything he could into a massive backpack, he set off as soon as his mom left for work that day. No goodbyes. No regrets. He had brought as much money as he could with him, which was just over one thousand dollars, stolen from his family and his own wallet. Fifty miles out of the town, and two hours later, his phone rang. His mom was calling. Denying the call, he quickly made off again, hoping for a nearby rest stop. His phone continued to ring as the sun set over the plains of Texas. He knew he would need power to keep his phone charged, and so, after six hours in the saddle, and ninety-seven miles down the road, he collasped into a small service station. Tired and on his last wit, he slept, holding the bike to his chest. He thought in his dreams about his father, and what amazing experiences that old John Fuller Sr. must have enjoyed aboard the Trek. But, morning finally came, and the Twinkies he purchased for the next leg of his escape from hell would be vital. He had read that sugar was really important for endurance, and so he ate what he could, and set off. Within a couple hours, he saw a new sign: WELCOME TO OKLAHOMA. He did it. He made it out. Even though he was surrounded by those who said he couldn't he knew that only the evil could rot in hell. He had to keep going. He had to succeed. And then, coming to another friendly 7-Eleven, he stopped and rested for lunch. This is where he met Sam.
"America. Show a nipple on television and the whole country goes ape-shit." -DubbelDekker
This is quite the literal definition of "wall of text"
baseballlover312, 06-03-14 : "Nuke Moscow...Don't worry Russia, we've got plenty of love to go around your cities"
Sarah Palin, 08-03-14 (CPAC, on Russian aggression) : "The only thing that stops a bad guy with a nuke is a good guy with a nuke"
Big thanks to jdog for making this AMAZING userbar!
Sam was a fellow on a ride across the country. His goal, in the end, was to prove to a new UCI manager that he would be the perfect fit for that team. So, from then on, the two rode together. Through Oklahoma, down into New Mexico and Arizona, and then they started to gather up more endurance. John Jr. had now been eleven days from home, and he missed his mom. It was a long time to be without any family, and so, when the duo stopped right before they hit Nevada, he called home. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. No answer. Then on the second try, a surly voice came over the line. He immediately hung up, and tried the cellular device his mom carried instead. In less than a second, his mother's sorrowful voice came through. They chatted for over an hour, his mom constantly asking if he would come home, and finally she added "and give up that stupid bike!" That was the end of John's patience. He said I love you, and terminated the call instantly. And so, Sam and John made it to California within a few more days. Finally, after nineteen straight days on the bike, John stopped. He was down to just eight hundred dollars or so, and he knew he needed a job, or something at least. Sam went to go meet the big boss guy of this new cycling team, and John decided to tag along just to see what everything was about. They stopped at yet another 7-Eleven before riding in to speak with "The Big Cheese". The man inquired about John's appearance here, and Sam explained that the two had ridden together for the past seventeen days. Impressed, the man still only known as "the guy in charge", asked John all sorts of questions about himself, and finally introduced himself as Tom Jones, some hotshot new millionaire looking to run a sports team. John knew something was up, but even he couldn't have guessed what happened next.
"America. Show a nipple on television and the whole country goes ape-shit." -DubbelDekker
Tom Jones, the Tom Jones, popped the question. "How would you like to come on board this squad?" And that was it. All within thirty seconds, John Fuller Jr. was a professional(sort of) cyclist. And all it took was nineteen days of countryside escape to get there.With that, John decided it was time. Time to call home. "Mom?" he softly said into the cell phone. All he heard on the other side was weeping, and he cried too. They talked for what must have been hours, because Sam got worried that something had happened. They got off the line, and John was introduced to the team, or what was there thus far. Gary Rochester, Bob Dylan, Gabe Newell, Patrick Lombardo, and Harry Tyles. Of course, Sam and soon to be John were also on the team, but Big Banana Tom was still working on recruits. Then, Tom came back with the contract options.
ROLE: Prospect
LENGTH: 2 Years
PAYMENT: €2.000
SCHEDULE: Early-Season, 20+ Race Days
ROLE: Helper
LENGTH: 1 Year
PAYMENT: €2.200
SCHEDULE: All-Season, 35+ Race Days
Spoiler
This is where John needs you guys. Deep inside his conscience, many voices are yelling at him to pick one, and he needs clarity! Vote here--->https://www.poll-m...c71F4136-3
"America. Show a nipple on television and the whole country goes ape-shit." -DubbelDekker
Good luck with it
Can't take the next monthly awards though...
#FREELANDA #FREELIA MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
emre99's stages Thread of the Week : Tour of California 2014 -Official PCM World Cup 2016, 10th best keirin player in the world PCM.daily Awards : 2 Nominee 0 Award
Daily Song Contest WINNER! With Foals - Mountain at my Gates with Greece! 1 like 1 girlfriend ''I call you the stage god. You are the stage god.'' -baseballover312, 15.07.2016
baseballlover312, 06-03-14 : "Nuke Moscow...Don't worry Russia, we've got plenty of love to go around your cities"
Sarah Palin, 08-03-14 (CPAC, on Russian aggression) : "The only thing that stops a bad guy with a nuke is a good guy with a nuke"
Big thanks to jdog for making this AMAZING userbar!
