10k Post Special Report: My Year Abroad

ThomasFremont said:

As some of you may have noticed, I went AWOL for a little over a year from Hardcore Husky. Well now I’m back and posting so fast I eclipsed 10k posts. So what happened? Let me take you on a little journey...

It all started as a fake hunger strike style one man boycott to #FREEHARV around the time of the summer 2018 fundraiser. Apparently Derek was rolling in the cash and my offer wasn’t worth even a 1 day reprieve for everyone’s favorite Coog. Like a TRUE American, Derek did not negotiate with my terrorist ways. I never intended to stick with the thing, and even planned to pony up the $129 so I could have a fucking badge next to my name, just as I had in previous years. But in the midst of the strike, a fatal blow was struck. Some whiny little giner narked on me for not having a badge, and Derek finally revoked my Wam access. No warning, just gone. I’ll admit I was hurt. Just like the Viet Cong that had suffered and fought on the front lines with no support, I was rolled up and tossed aside by the NVA once they had consolidated power.

So I left...

And it was a bizarre season. Not being here was weird. Sure I interacted with some of you on Twitter, but it wasn’t the same. When we lost to Cal, I almost ruined a vacation with IRL friends losing my shit and drunkenly threatening to kill our entire offense. When we beat Utah, I wasn’t here to rub my nuts across 89Utes face and laugh the sweet laughter of victory. When we flew our top secret airplanes into the clouds above Pullman to seed them with ice, it felt unsatisfying. When we beat Utah AGAIN on the Murphy pick 6, I was HYPED as fuck, but also alone. And when I finally went to my first Rose Bowl (I skipped 2001 because I thought it would never end, lulz)...it kinda felt like I crossed off a major bucket list item. Except I did it without my people (no offense to my drunk father in law). What was going on???

On a more serious note, I was dealing with some personal issues that derailed my life. I lost my grandmother last year. She basically raised me for a few years when my mom was hospitalized with life threatening injuries. My dad spent all his time working and the rest at the hospital with her. I was alone. Except for grandma. Those were dark days from my childhood. Losing the person who had been my rock through that trial was something I knew was coming, but was unable to cope with. She and my grandpa were both UW grads, and took me to my first Husky football game when I was 4 or 5.

Turns out I have a real issue dealing with loss. As she deteriorated, I stopped being able to recognize her, because she could no longer remember who I was. The person I knew was gone, even though she was sitting right there. It fucked me up. I wasn’t a good husband, father, son, brother, or friend. I was just checked out. I traveled to Europe to see the village in France where my grandpa had been when he won a bronze star to try and honor the past. Friends took me out and got me wasted to cheer me up. I bought a fucking yacht. I even started some light TBSing...pretty much rock bottom.

Anyways, I think the point I am trying to make is this; we only get one life. And in that time you’re gonna meet a lot of people. But very few of them will ever form a connection with you. Those that do may eventually forget you. So spend what time you have with the people who get you. I’ve known some of you since I was in high school. Once upon a time I was the bright eyed and bushy tailed BTP of the Halfbrain movement, except way better. If you’ve read this far, I assume you’re one of the OGs. The HHBs. The mother fuckin Viet Cong of WASHINGTON football. You degenerate fucks were my rock during the darkest days of the program. Since we’re still here, and you still remember who I am, I’m BACK.

Special shout out to Grundle for extending the olive branch that convinced me to post again.

Thanks for reading 😘

ThomasFremont said:

As some of you may have noticed, I went AWOL for a little over a year from Hardcore Husky. Well now I’m back and posting so fast I eclipsed 10k posts. So what happened? Let me take you on a little journey...

It all started as a fake hunger strike style one man boycott to #FREEHARV around the time of the summer 2018 fundraiser. Apparently Derek was rolling in the cash and my offer wasn’t worth even a 1 day reprieve for everyone’s favorite Coog. Like a TRUE American, Derek did not negotiate with my terrorist ways. I never intended to stick with the thing, and even planned to pony up the $129 so I could have a fucking badge next to my name, just as I had in previous years. But in the midst of the strike, a fatal blow was struck. Some whiny little giner narked on me for not having a badge, and Derek finally revoked my Wam access. No warning, just gone. I’ll admit I was hurt. Just like the Viet Cong that had suffered and fought on the front lines with no support, I was rolled up and tossed aside by the NVA once they had consolidated power.

So I left...

And it was a bizarre season. Not being here was weird. Sure I interacted with some of you on Twitter, but it wasn’t the same. When we lost to Cal, I almost ruined a vacation with IRL friends losing my shit and drunkenly threatening to kill our entire offense. When we beat Utah, I wasn’t here to rub my nuts across 89Utes face and laugh the sweet laughter of victory. When we flew our top secret airplanes into the clouds above Pullman to seed them with ice, it felt unsatisfying. When we beat Utah AGAIN on the Murphy pick 6, I was HYPED as fuck, but also alone. And when I finally went to my first Rose Bowl (I skipped 2001 because I thought it would never end, lulz)...it kinda felt like I crossed off a major bucket list item. Except I did it without my people (no offense to my drunk father in law). What was going on???

On a more serious note, I was dealing with some personal issues that derailed my life. I lost my grandmother last year. She basically raised me for a few years when my mom was hospitalized with life threatening injuries. My dad spent all his time working and the rest at the hospital with her. I was alone. Except for grandma. Those were dark days from my childhood. Losing the person who had been my rock through that trial was something I knew was coming, but was unable to cope with. She and my grandpa were both UW grads, and took me to my first Husky football game when I was 4 or 5.

Turns out I have a real issue dealing with loss. As she deteriorated, I stopped being able to recognize her, because she could no longer remember who I was. The person I knew was gone, even though she was sitting right there. It fucked me up. I wasn’t a good husband, father, son, brother, or friend. I was just checked out. I traveled to Europe to see the village in France where my grandpa had been when he won a bronze star to try and honor the past. Friends took me out and got me wasted to cheer me up. I bought a fucking yacht. I even started some light TBSing...pretty much rock bottom.

Anyways, I think the point I am trying to make is this; we only get one life. And in that time you’re gonna meet a lot of people. But very few of them will ever form a connection with you. Those that do may eventually forget you. So spend what time you have with the people who get you. I’ve known some of you since I was in high school. Once upon a time I was the bright eyed and bushy tailed BTP of the Halfbrain movement, except way better. If you’ve read this far, I assume you’re one of the OGs. The HHBs. The mother fuckin Viet Cong of WASHINGTON football. You degenerate fucks were my rock during the darkest days of the program. Since we’re still here, and you still remember who I am, I’m BACK.

Special shout out to Grundle for extending the olive branch that convinced me to post again.

Thanks for reading 😘

dnc said:

ThomasFremont said:

As some of you may have noticed, I went AWOL for a little over a year from Hardcore Husky. Well now I’m back and posting so fast I eclipsed 10k posts. So what happened? Let me take you on a little journey...

It all started as a fake hunger strike style one man boycott to #FREEHARV around the time of the summer 2018 fundraiser. Apparently Derek was rolling in the cash and my offer wasn’t worth even a 1 day reprieve for everyone’s favorite Coog. Like a TRUE American, Derek did not negotiate with my terrorist ways. I never intended to stick with the thing, and even planned to pony up the $129 so I could have a fucking badge next to my name, just as I had in previous years. But in the midst of the strike, a fatal blow was struck. Some whiny little giner narked on me for not having a badge, and Derek finally revoked my Wam access. No warning, just gone. I’ll admit I was hurt. Just like the Viet Cong that had suffered and fought on the front lines with no support, I was rolled up and tossed aside by the NVA once they had consolidated power.

So I left...

And it was a bizarre season. Not being here was weird. Sure I interacted with some of you on Twitter, but it wasn’t the same. When we lost to Cal, I almost ruined a vacation with IRL friends losing my shit and drunkenly threatening to kill our entire offense. When we beat Utah, I wasn’t here to rub my nuts across 89Utes face and laugh the sweet laughter of victory. When we flew our top secret airplanes into the clouds above Pullman to seed them with ice, it felt unsatisfying. When we beat Utah AGAIN on the Murphy pick 6, I was HYPED as fuck, but also alone. And when I finally went to my first Rose Bowl (I skipped 2001 because I thought it would never end, lulz)...it kinda felt like I crossed off a major bucket list item. Except I did it without my people (no offense to my drunk father in law). What was going on???

On a more serious note, I was dealing with some personal issues that derailed my life. I lost my grandmother last year. She basically raised me for a few years when my mom was hospitalized with life threatening injuries. My dad spent all his time working and the rest at the hospital with her. I was alone. Except for grandma. Those were dark days from my childhood. Losing the person who had been my rock through that trial was something I knew was coming, but was unable to cope with. She and my grandpa were both UW grads, and took me to my first Husky football game when I was 4 or 5.

Turns out I have a real issue dealing with loss. As she deteriorated, I stopped being able to recognize her, because she could no longer remember who I was. The person I knew was gone, even though she was sitting right there. It fucked me up. I wasn’t a good husband, father, son, brother, or friend. I was just checked out. I traveled to Europe to see the village in France where my grandpa had been when he won a bronze star to try and honor the past. Friends took me out and got me wasted to cheer me up. I bought a fucking yacht. I even started some light TBSing...pretty much rock bottom.

Anyways, I think the point I am trying to make is this; we only get one life. And in that time you’re gonna meet a lot of people. But very few of them will ever form a connection with you. Those that do may eventually forget you. So spend what time you have with the people who get you. I’ve known some of you since I was in high school. Once upon a time I was the bright eyed and bushy tailed BTP of the Halfbrain movement, except way better. If you’ve read this far, I assume you’re one of the OGs. The HHBs. The mother fuckin Viet Cong of WASHINGTON football. You degenerate fucks were my rock during the darkest days of the program. Since we’re still here, and you still remember who I am, I’m BACK.

Special shout out to Grundle for extending the olive branch that convinced me to post again.

Thanks for reading 😘

LMFAO

Nominated, 5 starred and kudo'd.

Damn near brought a tear to my eye.

Good to have you back, comrade.