Many people ask, “how can I join T$A?”. Most of us hear this question a few times a day from adoring fans. There is a formal application process with an even more formal review by T$A elders, but the simple answer is “SHOW US YOUR AWESOME!”…
Here is a great example by CJ Fuckin West – T$A Member since Feb 2014:
So get this shit…
About a week ago I was riding my bike home after a long night of work. As required, I cashed in my shift beers and smoke a little tweeds. In my post work festivities I had totally forgot to charge my lights and once I left I feared I might not have enough juice to make it the whole ride home. I pedaled on as fast as I could, hoping to get home before my lights crapped out on me. But sure enough, halfway home, done. Both fucking lights at the same time just shut off. Boom!
So here I am, hoping to God that no one runs my ass over. More importantly, I fear another cyclist will see me and think that I’m a bad cyclist for not having lights. How would I tell them as they pass? Would I try to lie and say that someone stole my lights, hoping to get some sort of sympathy out of it? Naw, I’ll just ignore them, no, better yet, I’ll make fun of them.
Yeah, fuck them.
But I digress.
As I get within the home stretch I push the pedal to the metal. I come bolting around the last turn, headphones blaring Yaz, no lights & high on Hops.
As I corner the street OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE I run smack dab over this fucking HUGE BLACK PUG!! As I roll over it’s spine it sounds like someone stepping on a bag of chicharrones. The force causes it to roll off the street, all the way into the sidewalk and up against my neighbor’s (The Jew’) fence.
I blast past without stopping. Fuck it. I got scared. I didn’t want to stop because – A.) I didn’t have lights and didn’t want to get run over from behind while I got my thumb up my ass looking at the body of a dead dog. And B.) I was literally right down the street from my house. I was almost home. My Home. The place where I shit the best. So I made the instant decision to say fuck it, and come back to assess the damage in the morning.
Next day, after I drank a pot of coffee, ate some tacos, and took a short nap, I decided to go scope shit out. Starting to feel guilty as I pedaled closer I thought, “Nothing I could do, I’m not a fucking animal doctor.”
As I ride up to the scene of the accident, I see 3 fucking cop cars! Full blown, lights are on and they’re standing in the same fucking spot that the black pug rolled into the fence. A crowd had gathered. There’s one officer dusting for prints while another snaps photos of the area. The real fucking deal!
I try to lower my head and ride by but one of the officers walks into my path and asks me to stop. By this point, I’m quietly breaking wind because I think I’m about to go to fucking jail for running over someone’s fucking black pug, breaking it’s back, leaving it for dead, and then looking at black chicks on the internet instead of rendering aid. Knowing my luck, the dog probably belonged to someone famous, like the president of Aqua Socks.
He brings me to a stop and asks me to get off the bike. I respectfully oblige. But not because I possess the UTMOST respect for our uniformed dictators, but because I had a GIANT bag of tweeds in my fanny pack. So here I am stuck inside of a fat girl I didn’t want to bring into the bathroom in the first place.
I killed this fucking black pug, and now they’re gonna throw me in the slammer.
The officer says to me, “There was an incident last night and I need you to identify something for me. As the officer turns and points into the back of the car.
I peer into the back seat and see something I will never forget. There, in broad fucking daylight, sitting in the back seat of a cop car, was a GODDAMN BLACK MIDGET WITH DOWN SYNDROME!!! Oh, and he also had a broken back.
Turns out he was robbing houses in my neighborhood. Dumb Fuck.
My name is Christopher Jordan West.
I brew beer, grow beards, & ride bikes.
I want to go fast.
Happy Birthday, CJ!
T$A season 2015 was a good one. Plenty of highs, and we do not recall the lows. Most likely because we do not have those. This was our most successful CX season yet. The T$A is not measuring success by podiums, and wattage output, but by life victories. How many folks did we make enjoy their day a bit more this season? A shit ton, metric of course. We brought on a few new faces to the crew this year, barely regret it. We were lucky enough to be the host city for the 2015 CX Nationals. Though there is a bit of controversy that went along with the event, T$A in Partnership with The Radavist, and Beat The Clock Cycling flipped that shit into a a happy day for most. That is a win!
We also enjoyed bringing more spectators into the fold. Many now are CX connoisseurs. The more folks flying the flag of fun the better, right? Of course We’re right! Shut up.
Kong has now announced to the World He is a CX Expert. A win? We are not sure…
At the end of the day We have you to thank. We thrive off your yells, and laughter. They are Our life force, which is supplemented by the pain and tears of Our foes. Which honestly are quite abundant. Please do your best to continue to support Us, and we will continue to support you. Now go to that little SHOP tab at the top of this screen, and get yourself some sweet T$A gear.
The T$A could not exist if it were not for are friggin stupidly bad ass partners. Week in and week out, Austin Beerworks provides all of you, via Us with fine beverages to partake in while you watch a bunch of idiots ride in circles. We also thank, and so should you, PURE Austin for enabling us to look as good as we do. You ever been to River City Market? If not, get your head out of your ass, and check them out. Awesome store! No one can forget the way that Treaty Oak Distillers make you feel. Frac’in God Dang awesome is how! Tastiest spirits you can get your hands on. For your entertainment the Girls and Boys over at Beef and Pie productions help create all of our video content.
We love you all!