By Dave Gil de Rubio

Cover Photo

This was my first foray into this storied tournament. And yes, an education was had. Here are some of the lessons I gleaned.

1. Mike Dudolevic’s Party Van is an Eric Clapton/Phil Collins Free Zone despite Twin Dekes’ propensity for grooving to Yacht Rock

2. Ten people do in fact fit comfortably into said Party Van.

Mike's Van
3. Glo sticks notwithstanding, no one really took into account the lack of light involved with partying on the beach that made it feel like we were having dinner at one of these joints except with lots of sand and cheap beer.

Dining in the Dark

Dining in the Dark
4. According to Caroline Webster, aggro jam-band reggae is in fact a thing.

5. I’m not quite sure if the phrase “Roll Tide” was actually an invitation for any team we played in the tournament to do just that.

Hollywood dramatization of the roll tide about to hit Dave

Hollywood dramatization of said roll tide about to make a Red Tide

6. Apparently there was an unspoken goalie union code that involved not allowing Rich Glanzer to score and to also endure endless heckling.

7. When digging the eighth goal out of the back of the net during a 9-1 drubbing by the aforementioned Twin Dekes, when they’re going into Soft Rock Mode and providing a soundtrack for the arena, the Michael McDonald/Patti LaBelle duet of “On My Own” isn’t really what I’m looking to hear despite the absolute appropriate timing of this song.

8. I don’t think Ernest Hemingway realized that The Old Man & The Sea would be what people would start calling Coach’s storied attempt to wrestle the Atlantic Ocean into submission (cover photo).

Coach cemented his lead with late night ocean wrestling to win Michaliga's inaugural OC Spirit Cup, named after WTP face, you know who

Coach cemented his lead with late night ocean wrestling to win Michaliga’s inaugural OC Spirit Cup, named after WTP face, you know who

9. James Stein proved that you can be a fertile, over-40 goalie who can get the job done and win a championship.

Craig loves this idea—he now thinks he may actually get a playoff win this year!

Craig loves this idea—he now thinks he may actually get a playoff win this year!

10. While Craig LaCombe did his part in showing that fatherhood has softened him up to the point where he resisted the urge to go full frontal while taking the time to briefly pilfer the Tournament Cup.

Craig Takes Cup

3 stars

3rd star: Craig LaCombe – Sea Section

Craig OC

When the final wasn’t entertaining us (“booooooorrrrrrinnnnggg”) Craig took it upon himself to do so.   As soon as the horn rang to indicate that the 1st half was over, someone randomly said “what’s the halftime show?” and Craig knew what he had to do.  He quickly stripped down to his underwear, threw on his jock, ran across the rink, humped Olivier on his way, stole the cup and ran back across the rink and gave the cup to the fans.  The rink door remained open for some time and the refs didnt drop the puck, seemingly thinking that Craig or someone else might bring the cup right back. That wasn’t gonna happen.  The cup remained in the stands for the rest of the game. Occurrences like this are the reason OC is great.  Craig is the reason OC is great.

The amazing footage:
Craig steals the cup OC 2015

“I’m a father!!!”

2nd star: Lime Walker/The John “Lime” Walker Experience/John Walker and the Limes/whatever else they called themselves
(Ben Chadwick, Tia Lendo, Jamie Batuwantudawe)

Lime Walker band photo

Man, my cellphone camera is just awful.


To clarify, I was not in this band, yet somehow they named themselves after me.  Little did I know how much of an honor that would be…..until I saw them perform. Those of us who found ourselves in Room 333 of the Seahawk on Saturday night, rather than at Seacrets, were treated to something really special.

So, this is how the story goes……a few of us were hanging out in my room at the Seahawk early on Saturday night, waiting for a few others to get there before we left for Seacrets.  The plan was to go to Seacrets, this was the plan the whole time.  Things don’t always go as planned, and many times that is a good thing.  While waiting, Chadwick was strumming on his ukulele, eventually Tia showed up and started kazooing along, then Wick handed Jamie the 2nd ukulele….and the magic that is Lime Walker was born.  The New York Times called the trio “the greatest cover band that ever lived” and we couldn’t agree more.  As they played cover after cover, more and more people poured into Room 333, all planning to go to Seacrets, but all unable to tear themselves away from the sweet sounds that filled the room. Complete with people shouting out song requests (the band was happy to oblige) dancing, singing along and endless applause from the audience; this performance had all the great elements of an intimate show. Each time the band thought they were finished they were instead met with chants of “one more song” or “encore, encore”. The crowd couldn’t get enough. I was lucky enough to have a front row seat to this impromptu show and I wouldn’t have traded it for any other ticket you can think of.  
Zach, Rem, Abby, and Michelle T. can all attest to how great being right up front was.  This show was my favorite part of the weekend, and it was everything that Seacrets isn’t. 

Here is an exclusive video:
(unfortunately my TERRIBLE voice is drowning out the other people singing along, and the music itself.)


As mentioned above, I was not part of this band. I was, however, invited up to the stage to perform their final song of the night along with them. Because they know that The Outfield’s “Your Love” is one of my favorite pop songs of all time, they surprised me by making this their final song of the evening.  Hear my HORRIBLE monotone voice ruining the song, below:

(I realize now upon watching/listening to this that I screwed up one of the lyrics, to a song I know by heart.  That’s now taken aback I was by their amazing performance.)


1st star of Ocean City: The people who made it happen.  

I have been asked not to get into all the specifics of everyone who made this happen. In addition to the obvious people who kept the weekend running smoothly there are a lot of people who need to be thanked for all their effort leading up to the tourney. A huge thank you to everyone on each of the planning committees. There really are too many people to name here, so I am not even going to try, so that I don’t inadvertently miss anyone. Also, again, it was felt that it would be best if we didn’t go into all the specific people here, and their roles. 

I did however try to catch up with a few of the key people who kept the weekend running smoothly……

I attempted to interview Worky to ask him how he pulled off the awesome feat of BeachTSH but he was unavailable for comment due to finally getting his life back.

I reached Eric and Ashley in order to thank them for reffing and for their contributions to developing the rules. I asked them how their weekend in stripes was to which they both responded by blowing their whistles loudly in my face and yelling “faceoff! inside the zone!  Oops, sorry JW, we’re so used to reffing that we have forgotten how to normally speak with people.”  I completely understood. 

I asked MDF how it was running the scoreboard most of the weekend. She simply handed me an envelope, without a word.  I opened it and it was a wedding invitation.  It read ” You are cordially invited to the wedding of MDF and Daktronics All Sport 5000 scoreboard controller.”  I’ll be there with bells on.


We hope that MDF and Daktronics will be very happy together.

Thanks again to everyone who made it happen.  Your hard work did not go unnoticed.
See you on the beach next year!

In Cold Pulp:
Sex, Drugs, Schadenfreude, Mopery, Extortion, Sodomy, Ennui, More Sex, Graft, Treason, and Loitering:
The Unauthorized, Untold, Unresearched Story of Lime-Toss:
Complete and Unsliced
by Truman Wolfe (feat. Nate Dogg)

Editor’s note: the “In Cold Pulp” manuscript, evidently a history of Lime-Toss written by modern-day “New Journalists”, fell into the possession of Dr. Byron Clavicle, the BTSH writing staff’s foremost reclusive nonentity. As BTSH’s Oklahoma City “Beach” tournament nears, we’re publishing this excerpt to help newcomers understand the origins of a game that has taken America’s shorelines by storm (not literally; limes grow on trees or vines or something, they do not fall from clouds). Lime-Toss, in its modern renaissance, has come to symbolize unprecedented levels of stupidity.

“In Cold Pulp” Book Jacket Cover

Chapter 1: Uh-Oh, Lime Comes to Town

August is the second cruelest month, but for a small-town jive turkey named Freddy “Sticky Fingers” Norblatt, it was so much more. For a small-town jive turkey with an idea and a dream, August was rancid with hot, buttered opportunity. On the twelfth of that soupy month, 1965, he rolled into Ocean City, Maryland, or possibly Delaware, in his 1988 Iroc-Z with a dream, a sack full of nickels, a sweat-stained Army raincoat, and a trunk full of limes.

He’d seen it all. You just needed an idea, an idea and a dream and a vision. An idea, a dream, a vision, an ambition, a concept, and a hot-tub full of moxie, plus also a lime supplier, a zester, and maybe a fried clam once in a while–

He’d seen Whammo hit the big time with the “Frisbee.”

He’d seen Duncan hit the big time with the “Yo-Yo.”

He’d seen Oswald hit the big time with “Kennedy.”

Now it was his turn.


Don't Believe his Limes

On the O.C. boardwalk he’d strut around in a sandwich board, shoving around a wheelbarrow piled high with limes. He passed those sweaty days screaming at passers-by: “Lime-Toss. Five bucks a lime. Twelve bucks a throw.” The rules, chalked onto his signboard, were simple. For seventeen bucks you could chuck a lime out to sea. If it landed on a sailboat, you could keep it. If you whacked a swimmer, he or she became your permanent concubine. If you knocked out a seagull, you could stick it on a skewer and eat it. The skewers were offered free of charge.

Freddy Norblatt

Last known photo of Freddy “Sticky Fingers” Norblatt.

By the end of the month, beachcombers turned up “Sticky Fingers” Norblatt, floating in the reeds of the waste canal behind the dunes by the Seahawk Motel, starved, beaten, drowned, and deceased. The poor man who’d come to make himself a rich man left town as a poor dead man, his viscera so much stuffing for Ocean City’s crab-human-crab food chain. Limes were strewn all over the goddamned place, roosted upon by colorblind ospreys. Those green eggs would never hatch. Stupid ospreys.

Freddy didn’t hit the big time. History does not remember Freddy Norblatt, and neither should we. History never found his wheelbarrow or his sandwich board, but history did find his raincoat, and the rest is history.

Freddy Norblatt Last Gasp

Freddy Norblatt’s Last Gasp

Chapter 1, Part 2: A Sub-Lime-inal Message involving Limes

It was the best of limes, but it was, paradoxically, also the worst of limes. Nineteen seventy-four. Citrus fruit worldwide suffered an outbreak of Bohemian Weltschmerz, growing too apathetic to fall from the trees. The international lime shortage thrust Gerald Ford into the White House, while a young Donald Rumsfeld secretly negotiated to trade Gavrilo Princip to the Iranian Sandinistas in exchange for surplus helium.

But come October, a young botanist named Kookie Apsigurgle made a discovery that would change the course of history forever for a few days. It was a raincoat, stained with dead moths and rutaceous angiosperm. Freddy Norblatt’s name stitched on the inside collar. In one pocket Kookie found a crumpled up napkin, with a note inside, a note written in shaky, drunken letters, each letter painstakingly inscribed using a system for recording handwritten words that involved ink in some way, and the words were:

…sailboats/concubines/seagulls gimmick not working. Revised rules?
1. get limes
2. people throw limes to one another
3. points are for style but points mean nothing since game is not actually scored
4. limes can never go over the tallest man but that’s not really a rule
5. game makes hands smell good, cures scurvy, great for kids and assertive pets
6. there are no prizes
7. there are no winners
8. …get SUPER RICH!!!
9. use riches to settle bar tab, buy warhead, kill Billy Joel

Kookie Apsigurgle knew genius when she saw it. She quit her pointless botany gig. Bought a lime farm. Convinced the damn things to grow again. Spread the game across the East Coast. Changed her name to Kookie Limepleseed. She founded Seacrets, and eventually, ISIS. The rest is history. 
Lime Tree

A lime tree in full bloom

Chapter 1, Part 3: Lime Me to the Moon

It was early 1986 when a young President Ronald Reagan…

Editor’s note: “In Cold Pulp” continues for another twelve thousand pages, explaining the role of limes in ballistic studies and eventually as propellant for the early Saturn-V rockets, plus Neal Cassady and Ken Kesey’s tour of the country in a giant lime. Unfortunately we at BTSH are about to run out of pixels so we will end our excerpt he

Different editor’s addendum: that was actually a typo. We meant to write, “we will end our excerpt she”

Third editor’s codicil: just to be clear, these editors’ notes are not pa

Ken Kesey’s Citric Kool-Aid Automolime, which toured the country, freaking out the lemonheads.

No games doesn’t mean no content. Instead, for the second day in wrestling a row its tw0-a-days! Will your team advance in the mock playoffs? Games are today so take off work and get to TSP! We have a special guest writer. 

My fellow Bash Brother Brian H. will finish off the Round of 16.

My fellow Bash Brother Brian H. will finish off the Round of 16.

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So if the playoffs started today…what would happen? Besides everyone being pissed at me for Tim Brown starting the playoffs randomly on a Tuesday, with me having nothing to do with it, here would be the matchups. In the Round of Hockey Teams that aren’t very Good

Elves at WTP
Mega at Karma
Rainbows at Gut Rot
Poutine at Riots

Striving for Adequacy

Striving for Adequacy

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