fiveholeferg-blog

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As you can see, I haven’t always been a thug.   And by thug I mean a regular guy.  I don’t remember taking this lovely picture, but im sure I was thinking that this was going to be gold.  And when I showed it at my churches graduation service the whole crowd would go awwhhh.  A few years after that, I was in kindergarten.  And I would go out to recess and pretend I was a dump truck.  I would run around the playground.  My grandma said I was the easiest kid to watch for a day because I would just go outside and keep myself entertained. Sometimes I would walk around the woods by her house, I would think I heard something, then run off back to grandmas. Then id just chill out and hang out inside.  When I got older matt and I would ride around on our bikes.  And for some cash we would cruise around on our lawn mowers asking people if we could cut their grass.  We usually spent more on gas then we made.  One day in the first week of fourth grade we got the bright idea to tie a jump rope to the back of matts bike.  I put on my roller skates on and had him pull me.  As you can guess, I fell and broke my arm.  So after that sucker healed, it was winter time.  We would go sledding and have a good time doing that. When we turned fifteen we all got mopeds and would cruise around town.  It was so much fun.  I would honestly buy a moped now and cruise around on that thing.  They are great on gas.  My moped would only do like 25 mph so I would be in last.  But it got me a to b.  Growing up was great.  

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If I woke up tomorrow not in my own body, I would want to wake up and be a bald eagle.  I picked this animal because they are extremely bad ass and represent America. I would find a few new eagle buddies, and fly to either the super bowl or the Talladega five hundred.  We would fly over the grandstands with a flag because nothing is more American than that. Then after that, we would probably be pretty hungry.  So I’d give a good eagle screech, and get the boys together.  We would sit on top of mount rushmore and talk about our next plan. By this time we would get pretty hungry.   So we would go hunt a deer.  Sounds like a tall task, but if we get four eagles together, anything is possible. So one eagle would be going for the kill and id yell something stupid like “let her eat Jimmer”.  After we attempted to start a fire to cook our venison, we would just have to eat it raw because eagles haven’t mastered fire yet.  Then I would take off and fly east until I made it to the ski jump in iron mountain.  I would take a few glory laps around that, and then head up to pictured rocks.  I would cruise up and down the coast humming the national anthem.  When I get sick of humming that, ill start humming born free by kid rock.  Then I would fly over lake superior into the distant sunset.  I have also considered being a wolf, but every true Yooper hates wolves.  Wolves are often gut shot because they will run off and get killed by their own pack.  So why not be an eagle.    

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Joe Berglund

Ski Jump fear

It was ski jump weekend in Iron Mountain Michigan, something my dad takes very seriously. So I took my roommate home for the amazing spectacle of ski jumping and drunk people.  My dad doesn’t condone what people do down below the jump.  My dad is actually on the hill crew.  He takes a week off of work and helps set the whole thing up.  And the morning before competition they needed a whole lot of help.  So I had to drag my butt out of bed at six in the morning, and bring my roommate with me.  On Saturday there were forty mile per hour wind gusts so there was absolutely no way they were going to jump.  But we needed to get it setup for the next day.  So my dad told me and my roommate that we had to go to the top of the jump. That thing is one hundred and seventy six feet in the air.  And when the wind is gusting, it isn’t fun.  We were up there pulling off random boards and stuff that was just in the way.  The thing had to be swaying two feet each way. Which isn’t a whole lot but is absolutely terrifying.  And it was my roommates first ever trip up.  I told him if he starts to worry, just remember it was built in 1937.  He was obviously nervous.  But then my dad said something random.  He turns to us and says “ boys, it is tradition when you’re up here to take a selfie with whoever you are working with”.  So as we were clambering with fear we attempted to smile for a picture that we would remember forever.  And now I can honestly say it was worth it, but still terrifying.  

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Joe Berglund

The Mysterious boy

             It was spring time in the cold and dark upper peninsula.  So my family and I decided we would take a road trip to Florida.  On the way down we sort of just meandered our way down and stopped at all kinds of places like the Smokey mountains.  There we were eating and we saw this family and they had a kid my age with them.  Everywhere we stopped in the smokies they were there, and we would have a clever statement for one another.  Or when we started stopping in the Carolinas I kind of met a girl from down there who we saw at two different stops.  Never caught her name or snapchat.  But of the few people I met, the one that stands out the most was very mysterious. We were at the Kennedy space center in Florida.  I was wearing your typical tourist outfit with my classy redwings hat.  Because everyone loves the wings.  We got on the bus to see where nasa launched the Apollo rockets.   Of course there were five of us.  So I was the odd man out.  So I sat down next to this mysterious boy.  He was probably 14 or 15.  About five foot seven, just minding his own business when a monster of a human like myself came walking up.  I could see the fear in his eyes as he quickly scooted over and wanted nothing to do with me. He was playing angry birds so I said “man, I used to love that game.”  He just scooted closer to the window and turned away.  He must’ve been the odd one out in his family too, because when I said that his mom said, alright kids, we are getting off the bus.  He jumped out of his seat and hurried off the bus with his family.  While my family was laughing hysterically, I wondered what I did wrong.  Even the driver cracked a joke about it.  He said “he must not have liked the redwings hat, probably a Blackhawks fan”. As the entire bus had a good chuckle, I sat there in wonderment. So to this very day, I still do not know that mysterious boys story, or where he is at now.  And why I am so scary to him.  

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My legion baseball team went to the state tournament last year.  We were honestly the best team there skill wise.  However, we did not play very well and lost our first game.  Then we choked in our second game.  We were expecting to play the championship game on Sunday afternoon. Fate had other plans, because our last game was Friday at nine am.  Therefore, we lost, and did not know what we would do next.  My dad suggested that we went to the Toledo Mudhens game that night. So we did, and it was the time of my life.  We planned to leave the next day, however we didn’t because my dad brought up that the tigers were playing that night against the Houston Astros.  We had to take a few teammates with us downstate.  So my dad gave us the option of going home Saturday morning or going to the game then driving through the night to come home.  I just wanted to get home but then I stopped and thought, how often do I get to go to a tiger’s game.  They are eight hours away.  Then I found out my favorite pitcher was playing.  Justin Verlander.  Therefore, we got standing room tickets.  Midway through the fourth inning, a foul ball came our way.  My friend mookers mom wrestled it away from an old timer.  It was an incredible display of strength.  Then in the seventh inning, another ball came up. This time it was thrown by Justin Verlander, then fouled off.  It hit up top, as a turned and looked back I could see the ball coming towards me.  With my back to the rail, I reached out and caught it left handed. Then throwing the honorary hockey windmill.  Then my dad had the best chirp of all time and said, how about you and mooker get a picture together, but it isn’t the same because his mom caught his.  It was the time of my life and totally worth driving through the night.   

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It was just your typical day at Iron Mountain high school.  It was the fall of my junior year.  We were about halfway through football season.  I was a backup lineman.  However, I was the first one off the bench to go in the game. Therefore, at football practice after school I would run a few plays with the starters, then just go hang out for a while and maybe run some scout team.  Our senior left tackle was hit in a funny way and hurt his arm.  I did not think much of it and neither did he.  Therefore, I went to team dinner like any other Thursday night.  The next day, I went to school wearing your typical mountaineer away jersey with a pair of jeans.  I was talking to Mrs. P about some random thing about our football team.  I then had to go to my algebra class.  As I was strolling through d floor, I could not help but notice the putrid stench of all the freshmen.  They are extremely greasy and I did not appreciate it.  As you approach Mrs. Yake’s room at the end of the hall, you will see a man standing by his classroom door.  His name is Mr. Martilla.  He is the head football coach.  I have walked into Mrs. Yake’s room many times before. All he does is stand there with a smirk on his face, and he will look you over from head to toe.  He will not say a word.  If you give him a nod, he will give you a nod.  But I stopped nodding after a few weeks.  However, this time was different.  He was really checking me over and I was scared.  I slowly approached and he said “bergy”. My heart dropped as I thought I did something wrong, knowing that I had not.  “yes Mr. Martilla” I said cowardly.  He said “marc is out with a contusion, you’re starting tonight.”  I slowly nodded my head.  He responded “That’s just what we got, stay hydrated”. I then walked into Mrs. Yake’s room grinning at the fact I was starting.  And in awe that Mr. Martilla said something to a passing student.  

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Joe Berglund

2015 All Star Baseball Game MVP

For starters, I am not a good baseball player, nor will I claim to be one.  But as they say, even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes.  This whole story started at a legion baseball practice in June.  I was basically a bench warmer on my team, but I would play a lot of garbage time at the ends of the game so I was satisfied.  Our coach could put four people in the all-star game. He did not know whom to pick so he picked two kids and then had them give out the other spots.  Turns out, my best friend got one.  Therefore, he picked me to go.

It was an eventful day on the way up.  A kid on our team threw a bat out the window and it just was not looking good.  We get to the game, and the coach of the team says, “I don’t care where you play, just have fun”.  I took that as an open invitation to play positions I would never play in a real game. Therefore, I played shortstop, second base, center field, and left field.  The other teams coach decided he was going to play to win the game.  Therefore, from the beginning it was not looking good. They were so much better than we were. I stepped up to bat, and got an infield hit.  I am not exactly the fastest person in the world, but I made it.  It was kind of an error but all hits look the same in the paper. For my second at bat, I hit a single to center field.  I had both of our teams rbi’s.  That was an amazing feeling, to put the team on my back.  Sure, we lost 27-2, but it was so much fun.  We had my new puppy Leo in the dugout, and I even had him in the warmup circle.  He was just too cute not to have there.  When I received that trophy, I sent a snapchat to all of the haters who said I did not deserve to be in that game.  It was one of the proudest moments of my life and I actually have the trophy in my dorm room.  

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The day was November 18, 2016.  A day in which I will never forget.  

It started like any other first day of deer season.  Opening day was on November 15th,(which should be a Michigan holiday), but I was still at school so I could not hunt that day.  So on the Morning of the 18th I woke up just like any other first day of deer hunting.  With the anticipation that today could be the day where I am no longer the buckles Yooper. So I drove down to my friends uncles house in Norway Michigan playing none other than “Great Day to be Alive” by Travis Tritt.  I arrived there around six thirty in the morning.  I took the long walk to my tree stand.  It was still dark when I got there.  As I sat in my tree, I realized I had not put any bait out for the deer to eat. Therefore, I was hoping that they would just move through my area to the swamp that they bed down in for the day. All I could do was hope and pray.

Around seven thirty, I was sending out my daily snap streaks.  Something I take very seriously.  I was taking a picture of my view, looked at the picture, and saw three deer!  So I immediately put my gun up on the rail and looked at the deer through the sights.  It was a doe with her two yearlings tight against her side.  They meandered their way through my area for about ten minutes until I lost sight of them. So then, I calmly sat back and was thankful that I saw a few deer.  At about seven forty five my stomach told me it was hungry.  So I very loudly pulled my backpack up, grabbed a sandwich and loudly put it back down.  I was very loudly munching on a sandwich when I saw it come over the hill.  My heart started beating very rapidly.

I then did what anyone would do; put my gun up on the rail to see what it was.  I saw antlers and immediately put the gun on fire.  The deer was about one hundred and fifty yards away at this point.  At about seventy-five yards, he started running.  He went off my shooting rail so I had to free hand it.  Which is very difficult.  I slowly squeezed the trigger, and boom.  I took the shot.  He took off like a rocket and ran back down the hill.  He was about one hundred yards away and I took another shot because I saw he was a good buck and did not let him want him to be wounded.  I then walked to where I shot him.  There was no blood or hair.  I then walked to the other spot.  Nothing there either.  My heart dropped and I had thought I missed another deer.  I then started walking down hill and I saw it standing broadside. I took another shot and hit the lungs. He started running so I shot again. Not too proud of it but what’s done is done.  I then patiently waited as it took its last breath then went to claim my prize.  To this day, that was one of the most fulfilling days of my life.