The Return of Caption Kick-Ass

Captain Kick-Ass was a fellow partier from my college days. Come to think about he could have been a figment of my imagination (college was that rough on me!). Nevertheless, as I recall, Captain Kick-Ass was 6’3”, 250lbs. He had a shaved head with a full goatee. He probably grew up on a farm, bailed hay for fun and swallowed his chew spit. He had a terrible temper and always had beer on his breath. He was loud, obnoxious and if he wanted to, he could flat out beat the snot out of anyone he chose.

Now, flash-forward 6 years, post graduation.  I’m out training with one of my good college buddies who used to treat his body as poorly as I did.

I had escaped the downward spiral a year or two before he did and that afternoon he courageously joined me for a bike ride. Athletically gifted and tenacious were two of his many qualities that allowed him to endure the 2 ½ hrs beating that I was able to dole out on the bike that day. By the end of the ride, gasping for life, covered in his own half frozen drool and snot, Bryan utters,“Jeesh, thanks for nothing, Captain Kick-Ass!”. Coming from him, that meant a lot and I haven’t forgotten it.

Captain Kick-Ass is pretty much the 180 degree, polar opposite of who I really am. The Cpt. is a put-up or shut-up, beer breathed, beady-eyed, red faced, raged mad man. The guy that’ll get up in your face and won’t back down. He can serve-up a beat-down to anyone he chooses, anytime he wants.

“Now who wants to see the Captain open a can of whoop-ass? Can I get a Hell-Yeah?!”

Long story short, I have a long way to go, but be it in the pool, on the bike or on foot, the goal is to get back to dishing out the beatings, Captain Kick-Ass style!