Beta Pi Blog, Vol.2006, No.27 - Guest Blogmeister Frank Biller

Beta Pi:

Venerable Brother Frank "Buck" Biller's creative juices are now flowing - so much so that his e-mail is too long to post as a "Comment" (comments are limited to 2000 characters). Your Beta Pi Blog editorial staff has elected to deputize Frank as "Guest Blogmeister" and post his historical rant in its entirety, as follows:

"With Compliments to all my ATO Brothers past, present and future everywhere:

I must take issue with Bro. Simons on the precipitating events surrounding "The Fight". As per usual with Bro. S (and most of those in his chosen profession) he is only partially correct. This is my recollection and with all respect and admiration for Bro. S, I add it to the archives as an addendum to his wonderful memory of our younger days.

To begin with, the fight was actually the second leg of a trilogy devised to sort out the best humanoid amongst Bro S. and myself regarding the ability to drink liquor and perform athletic feats at the same time. The first test was the "shots of beer" contest.

We had originally considered recreation of several feats of drinking/athletics we had heard described by Bro. Matt "Don't call me Hart" Hart as having been previously performed in the Greater New York City Metro area by his boyhood mate a certain "Boss" (not to be confused with our own Bro. John "Boss" Stein).

As memory serves me, one of the ideas put forth had something to do with "snorting mustard up your nose". We considered this, but as it did not involve strong drink we decided to lay it away in the archives for future consideration.

Upon the return for the fall semester of our sophomore year Bro. H regaled us with stories of how difficult it is to consume one shot glass of beer every 30 seconds for any extended period of time.

We did not promote this particular contest (as we did "The Fight"). It simply materialized one Thursday night after dinner at the Tic Mansion. It became quite a contest. Bro. S refused to give up despite ralphing 7 times because he was (and still is I might add) so damned stubborn and bull-headed that he refused to quit, though I appeared to have the better of him. I continued despite 2 ralphings myself because - well I just love to drink.

I consumed 233 consecutive shots, Bro. S 232. The contest was declared a victory for me when Bro. S passed out while using the facilities in stall 2 at the Tic Mansion. I have not recently checkedthe anals (sic), however, I believe both records may still stand.

After Bro S suffered defeat at my hand, it was his gentlemanly right and my obligation as a gentleman for him to request and me to grant another chance for satisfaction. We briefly toyed with the idea put forth by Bro. Clyde "Donuts" Noel to drink one 12 oz beer per inning during a baseball game. As Bro. S is not much of a baseball man and our previous contest did not have much of an athletic bent to it (unless you consider ralphing your brains out several times in a row) we began musing on a more Olympian idea.

The next idea was loosely based around some sort of tri-athalon involving bicycling, running, swimming, etc. etc. We realized that concept had too many moving parts for the Tic crew of that era to manage efficiently (as exemplified by the now infamous "short bell" in round one of "The Fight", caused by indiscretionary use of herbal products by certain ringside officials) so we again archived it as a possible "third leg".

We decided upon boxing as a compromise. Bro. S had introduced me to the pugilistic arts whilst we were in residence at the Columbus OH Athletic Club with his father (the legendary George H. Simons of Columbia Tales fame) drinking heavily at piano bars in the area and painting Section 8 HUD apartments for G.H.S during the previous year's spring break.

The idea was that some Saturday afternoon after lunch we would rope off a ring in the front yard and chug a beer in between each round. We decided to call it the "Brew-Boxing" Championship of the World". Once we made public our plan, the Tic promotion machine (led by Bros. Hart and Chet Brewer) blew it up into the extravaganza we remember today.

At this point I must set the record straight on Bro. S's partial truth. My motivation for the fight was first and foremost self promotion coupled with a strong sense that Bro. S was deep down a scoundrel and a scalawag (as later proven out in his choice of profession - apologies to all you Tic Barristers out there).

In fairness to Bro. S I must relate the following.

Late on the Tuesday night prior to the Friday night event, I returned to the suite Bro S. and I shared in Carmichael towers with Bro. Steven "Vinnie" Starr in tow. Bro S. was in deep training counting on his advantage on the boxing skills side to carry the day and was actually studying.

I, on the other hand, counted on my then rather formidable skills on the drinking side and was just returning from a rather vigorous "training session". True to form for pugilists from time in memoriam I decided to goad my opponent to gain a psycological advantage.

Bro S. was cool as a cucumber. I tried every insult I could muster and could not get a rise out of him. Then, I remembered that he was having difficulties with his paramour of the time (one Sally Tucker - AOPi, I believe). At that point I referred to her as a "whore" (my apologies to Ms. Tucker - a fine honorable woman and as solid an alumnae as we have).

At that Bro. S arose from his chair and without hesitation or malice of forethought delivered in one motion a brilliant right upper cut to the tip of my chin, hurtling me back 6 -10 paces and landing me flat on my back in my own closet.

So, that was actually the first blow of the fight and a harbinger of the final outcome that would play itself out in the short but frenzied hostilities just a few days later a block to the west in the smoke filled front room of our beloved Tic Mansion.

It should be noted here that the third leg of this trilogy has yet to occur. Brother Simons and myself, in a rare moment of clarity and good judgement, decided after "The Fight" that we could never top such an event without risking serious bodily harm to one another. We settled it as a draw realizing that our health and friendship might not withstand another contest. We remain the best of friends to this day and I pray into the next lifetime.

Larry, in the immortal words of your father - "You are one of the all time greats!".

Regards,

Frank J. "Buck" Biller