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YHC was in the process of building a fun Saturday beatdown when Cardinal called with some devastating news: Bishop Dorsonville had passed away at 6:50pm from complications due to to treatment of liver issues. He had been dealing with a lot of pretty major medical stuff over the past couple of months, but he wasn’t anywhere near death, so this came as a shock to everyone. After some time grieving with the M and connecting with friends and family, YHC knew there was still a beatdown to be built for the morning, and the original theme wasn’t gonna work anymore. A solid tribute would be the only appropriate way to move forward.

F3 tributes are usually put together for fallen soldiers or policemen killed in the line of duty, and they’re defined by a single, very difficult routine that provides for maximum effort to honor the fallen. Though not a soldier or a policeman, Bishop Mario Dorsonville offered his life deeply and continuously for the people of the Diocese of Houma-Thibodaux in a uniquely heroic way, and his untimely death deserves such a tribute.

When he was named Bishop of Houma-Thibodaux, he had no idea where it was or what to expect, but he accepted it as the Lord’s will and resolutely headed this way. After his installation, he told me (on multiple occasions and with deep, passionate sincerity) that this was not going to be a stop on the way to a bigger assignment for him. He had already made up his mind and had communicated to his superiors that these would be his people for the rest of his life. These would be the people to whom he would belong, and they would belong to him until his death or retirement. He had no family left on earth outside of some distant relatives back in Colombia, and he didn’t know anyone here. But, he quickly connected with YHC’s family and with Cardinal and his family. Cardinal would become his secretary, his right hand man in all things, his brother in every sense of the word, his companion on the journey. We just had no idea the journey would be so short.

The PAX gathered in the cold gloom and YHC was grateful to sink into what has become a strong brotherhood, a team of HIMs defined by gratitude and humble grit. It was nice to enter that circle and let the chatter wash over us. YHC could tell the 2.0’s were grateful for that, too–they were close with Bishop, like an uncle, and they had just received the hard news that morning in the truck on the way there.

A warmup of the usuals, including the introduction of what YHC labeled “Lafayette Nightclubs”, a weird but extremely effective arm exercise experienced in Lafayette a couple of weeks ago (they called them “Moroccan Night Clubs”, but anyone who’s been to Morocco knows better). It starts with hands up, elbows down at your sides, then extend up and outward about 45 degrees before coming back down. This one’s quickly becoming one of YHC’s favorites since it works out an area that’s been hard to loosen up.
Also, Duke unwittingly provided some comic relief as he covered his whole face with his knit had to ward off the cold wind and kept drifting into Safety Valve’s circle of safety and windmilling him in the face. I think he actually wore it like that for the entire warmup.

YHC then explained what we’d be doing and why–some of the PAX knew already and some didn’t–and we split into teams of three, grabbed one coupon per team, and headed to the lower field.

The tribute would consist of a Dora-like routine wherein teams of three would complete the following exercises/reps:
-B: Burpees 200
-I: Imperial Walkers 300
-S: Side Straddle Hops 400
-H: Heels to Heaven 300
-O: Ono’s (Apolo Ono’s) 200 (2:1)
-P: Peter Parker Merkins 100
There were two cones set up about 15 yards apart, and while one of the trio chipped away at the burpees, another at the other cone started on the Imperial Walkers, and the third traveled from the first to the second via block-and-bear. Upon arrival, he took over on the Imperial Walker reps, and the second traversed back via block-and-bear to take over on burpees. Once a rep count was completed, that side would move onto the next letter’s exercise.

Yankee Joe came running over just as YHC was completing the explanation, but unfortunately, he made number 13, so we had to send him all the way back to grab another coupon so he could join one of the groups and make a foursome, requiring two men to block-and-bear together. He didn’t complain, though, and shared that he had heard about Bishop that morning, and though he may not have planned to be there otherwise, he had rushed out to the door to support YHC. That was deeply moving, and YHC was almost sorry to have to put him through such a grueling routine…almost.

It started rough and remained rough throughout, especially with the cold coupons numbing the fingers, making it hard to tell if you were fully gripping the block on the pulls. But, the variations of exercises and switching between them made it a little more doable (a little). Once all had finished except Suckle and AB (that’s how you know there may have been some widespread form-fudging), the rest of the PAX took 5 PPMerkins apiece to fill the gap, and we lined up for the next movement.

Indian Run via the road to the far gate (by the chimney field), the last guy dropping to do 3 genuflections before running to the front. This was tougher than it otherwise would have been, obviously because of the effort that was just poured in by the PAX, and the cold wind was a-blowin’. Once we arrived at the gate, YHC called a halt to share some words and an explanation of what we’d be doing next.

Bishop Dorsonville loved intensely. He yearned for familial relationships, and he naturally gave himself over, opening his heart wide to those he encountered. This was often exhausting for him, especially as he encountered more and more people here, and many of them weren’t always sure how to receive such an intense, sincere, familial love. This was painful for him, particularly since he had no family or friends here to fall back on, no place to be safe and comfortable with people who knew his heart, to whom he already belonged. But, he didn’t stop. He continued to press on and show up and pour himself out, praying for strength and growing connections with people here. Thankfully, Cardinal’s prayer led him to say yes to the request to be Bishop’s full-time secretary (which is more of like a partner/assistant), and God allowed he and his family to provide a “home” for him. God also allowed YHC and family to give him some harbor in the storm when he’d visit the house to feel at home with the mess and beauty of family life.

To honor this intense, often painful journey of pouring himself out unreservedly for the people here, we would run as hard as we could from there via the road to the parking area in front of the main building, just past the Thunderdome. It was about 1/3 of a mile, which was long enough to be friggin’ hard, but not long enough to get into a groove or find a good pace. He was the Bishop for only 9 months, which was long enough to be deeply difficult but not long enough to get comfortable.

YHC sent Yote and the 2.0’s on the shorter route between the fields, and we lined up. On signal, we took off at a hard pace and kept it hard–YHC could hear the footsteps of Suckle not far behind, and the rest were not far behind him. The body was exhausted, but we had a good reason to offer it up, to not measure how much more we could take, especially because we knew it would end soon enough. This part hit YHC hard, and the tears wanted to take over, but the opportunity to pour it all out and the support of this awesome crew provided the drive needed to put the pedal to the metal. (And, it almost provided YHC’s first career pukeage, too.)

We went down to the field and grabbed the gear before heading back to the flag for COT, and Dox prayed us out, all of us focusing on Cardinal’s grief and Bishop’s eternal rest.
Thanks, again, gentlemen, for your support and for entering into an unforeseen tribute beatdown in sub-freezing temperatures. F3 continues to be a deeper, more important gift than I know any of us could’ve ever expected.

SYITG,
Goose

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