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Setting Sail for #MACtion: The Legend of the Flown Flag

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The MAC gets its sailing orders, and those orders are to plunder some booty.

Wild Card Game - Cincinnati Reds v Pittsburgh Pirates Photo by Jared Wickerham/Getty Images

On the clear, blue shores of Lake Huron, 12 of the Midwest’s most storied programs assembled for a meeting of the minds, regaling each other with food, drinks and the common unity of the country’s beautiful sport: football.

These connoisseurs of the 10 football seas went to a familiar spot known well throughout the Midwest for its storied sporting lore: Ford Field.

All the big names were there. The legendary Captain Frank “The Tank” Solich, whose name is known throughout the land for his success as both a player and a coach. The emergent Captain Candle, with Ye Olde MAC Championship Trophy in hand, a prize his Rocket crew seized the season prior. The ever-optimistic Captain Neu, whose crew aboard the Cardinal was finally healthy ater spending months in the infirmry. Even the newcomer Captain Lewis, representing the Golden Flash, was in attendance.

(There was, of course, Captain Carey, the dogged captain of the Huskie, who had to shoo away the fans asking for his head at nearly every port. But he seemed in good spirits.)

Members of each of the 12 crews were there as well, comingling with one another as they get set to sail on another months-long campaign, a massive undertaking the likes of which earns the crewmen an unsopoken respect.

This scheduled shindig, however, wasn’t just for the sharing of farfetch’d fishing stories and tales of boistrously beautiful spoils, but rather, to set down the parameters for what will be considered success in their upcoming expeditions.

Writers from the various information houses announced the crews they expected to have the biggest campaigns. The Bobcat and the Huskie were the betting favorites, with Captain Solich and his crew expected to take Ye Olde Trophy (an assumption which Captain Candle surely did not appreciate.)

These proceedings were normalized by now. But little did they know, things were about to change forever.

The Grand Admiral Commissioner Doctor John Steinbrecher approached the stage, and regaled the crowd with a blusteorus speech, extolling the accomplishments that these 12 hungry and hopeful crews accomplished in the last season as representatives of the Mid-American Armada.

This armada was a loose confederation of crews, one which had recently gone through turbulent times. The Thundering Herd, The Golden Knight, The Owl and the Minutemen had once tried to break through into this band of merry crusaders, but all flamed out in one way or another in the past decades.

Through those trials, the presently-assembled crews found a healthy, more regional rivalry with one another which added a special feeling to each of the expeditions they sail towards, even if only one of them could achieve their goals at a time.

But now, the Grand Admiral Commissioner Doctor John Steinbrecher had a new directive for this motley crew: to plunder the booty of their Power Five brethren.

The Power Five, those malevolently powerful brigades of warships, had for years, mocked the batallions and armadas from the “Group of Five”, marking them inconsequential or worthless. Each season, the Power Five convenes secretly to find new ways to deny these batallions and armadas the bigger spoils, a conspiracy the likes of which could span the pages of Treasure Island. And safe to say, the Grand Admiral Commissioner Doctor John Steinbrecher, is sick of it.

This confederation of crews, previously united by respected rivalry, now had reason to come together and fight for a more noble cause: to fly the flag and let the rest of the footballing season know they were ready to fight for what they believe in.

With flagons in air and a renewed spirit in their hearts, a rowdy toast to #MACtion was made and the preparations undertaken for this most arduous of missions: invading emeny territory (or defending home turf) and emerging triumphant.

The Battle for Ye Olde Trophy could wait. Now the Mid-American Armada seeks only the sound of the cloth depicting their Jolly Roger flapping triumpantly in the wind after the din of hard-fought war.

Will you fly your flag and join the rebellion?