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Seriously.  There’s a lot to be discussed here.  But since I don’t have the time, or the space, I’ll give you the quick embodiment of their Illuminati Manual. 

I have been taking inventory of this society for my entire lacrosse life.  It seems they follow three principle rules. 

RULE #1: Be as vague as I possibly can. 

It’s impossible to get a straight answer.  They’ll either answer a question with a question, then skate when you’re not looking.  Or if you catch ‘em off guard, they’ll shut down and an automated response system will be alerted: “I don’t know.  Maybe.  I don’t know.  We’ll see.  When it gets here. I don’t know.” 

Example: 

“Timmy, when are the sticks coming in?” 
“I don’t know.” 

Which always gives you a slight hesitation, because you’re thinking, “Yeah you do know.  You’re the guy who ordered them. right?”  But while your eyes are in the left side of your brain, he’ll snake away under your nose before you can voice it. 

RULE #2: Be as secretive as I possibly can. 

It’s pretty much protocol to act as if you’re part of the FBI.  You always get the feeling that they’re hiding your gear from you, or they’re protecting it for some special operation. 

“Hey Timmy, can I get a mesh kit?” 
“No we don’t have any, I’ll have to order you one.” 

Sure enough, next practice you’ll walk by the storage room, where he is rifling through a warehouse full of them.  “There’s a mesh kit right here?”  At this point, he’ll shut down, default kicks in.

“Yeah they just came in.” 
“Okay, can I have one?” 

Amazingly, he’ll reply, “Come talk to me after practice.”  And to this you can only look at him, like “wtf,” because by now you’ve learned arguing or even trying to bargain for YOUR stuff has somehow become irrational (and of course by the time you get out of the changeroom, he’s already taken off in the Batmobile, and is no where to be found).    

P.S. going into their storage area, you better be prepared to go buckets off.  Whatever it is they are protecting, they’re doing it with their lives. 

RULE #3 Act as if the Equipment is mine. 

For reasons unknown, they never want to give you your stuff.  And when you do get it, it’s never in bulk. It’s always piece-by-piece.  It’s almost as if they are holding onto it to the very last second.  Oh, and let me tell you, they must know something about shafts that we don’t. Apparently, these things are priceless.  They’ll give ya two heads, but only one shaft.  Where’s the logic?  And the best part about it is, they’ll stand there in front of a bag full of them, and tell ya straight up they don’t have any.  Shocking. 

Like I was saying, this is more or less a preface to the 20 volume Freudian case study that can be discussed about these guys.  This spot is inspired by and dedicated to my current equipment manager, who I’m pretty sure is the existing Grand Dragon of this society.   

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