Merry Christmas: A Post From John Evans, Our Newest Platinum Member

I am humbled to be sharing the Lifetime Platinum Membership Award with Penn State Track/XC legend Brian Boyer. Just being mentioned in the same sentence with Brian puts the significance of the award into perspective.  While I am not sure I am deserving, I thank you all for this great honor.

               As part of the award, I get the honor and responsibility of making a post to this page. I have thought about what topic I would write about in this post. I have decided to correct a glaring omission on these pages. I have not seen one past mention of the Flying Melvin.

The Flying Melvin is when, during a long run, you jump, mid stride as high as you can. At the highest point of the jump, you let out a fart. If done properly, the purpose of the Melvin is to blast one within inches of your teammate’s nose. The Flying Melvin was a staple of long runs while I was at Penn State. I don’t remember a Sunday morning mountain run without a few Melvin’s thrown in.

Team Captain, Jeff Adkins, and upperclassmen, Rob Whiteside and Barry Enright taught the freshman about the Melvin during the first week of practice. Adkins was an engineering major. He taught us  about: the correct angle of takeoff, the correct speed at launch, and when to time the release. Rob Whiteside had a poetic streak. He taught us about the significance of the Melvin to the culture of the team, and the beauty of a correctly executed release. Barry Enright taught us that farts are always funny. As a perennial fourteen year old, I did not need much instruction from Barry.

               During the first week of practice, it became obvious to everyone that one of the other freshmen was going to become the master of the Melvin. My dear friend and teammate, Paul Mackley rapidly distinguished himself as a quick learner. Within just a few days, he had the Melvin down.  I believe his ability can be attributed to two things. First, Paul was a great steeplechaser. I think he still has one of the top times in Penn State history. His steeplechase skill allowed him to time his leap perfectly.  More importantly, Paul had an unbelievable gastric system. He could fart on demand and could burp louder than my fifteen year old daughter screams when I refuse to give her money . We used to go to this cheap Mexican restraint called Pedro’s. Paul would  load up on refried beans and Mountain Dew. He would then blast out a burp that would rattle the windows. More than once, we got thrown out of the place following a Mackley burp. For those of you old enough to remember Pedro’s, getting thrown out of that dive was quite an accomplishment.

               While Mackley’s burps were impressive, his flatulence was a superpower. To give you an idea how impressive was Mackley’s wind, one day we were doing halfs at the Ice Palace. Mackley was leading an interval. He let one rip. I was right behind him. When I got hit with the blast, all I could feel was a wave of heat and humidity. It was like stepping into a sauna. Amazingly, there was no smell.

               One lap later, we hit the fart cloud again. The gas must have needed a little time to ferment, because this time the smell was paint peeling. The best way I can describe the smell is to compare it to a mixture of: cow manure, dairy waste, and rotten hard boiled eggs.  Not only was the smell bad, it was of an unbelievable intensity. It made me throw up a little bit in the back of my mouth. It  almost made me fall to the hard, unforgiving rubber turf of the Ice Palace track.

 I pulled it together and ran on. One lap later, the smell was still there. While it had dissipated a little bit, I was already weakened with my two prior exposures to the poisonous cloud. I don’t know how I did it, but I held on and got through. Thankfully, we finished the half before I had to get exposed a fourth time. That was the intensity of Paul’s mutant superpower.

               For my entire four years on the team, I did not do a long run without getting hit by at least one Mackley Melvin. Usually, he would hit me on a hill when I was working a little bit. My mouth would be slightly open and I would be taking a big breath of air and, BAM!, he’d  blast me. And it wasn’t just me. Everyone would get hit on a run. Just to give you an idea how impressive Mackley was, he hit me once while we were running Julian Pike and STILL made it to the top in less than ten minutes.

               While Mackley may have been the Cal Ripkin of the Melvin, he cannot claim credit for the best Melvin of all time. That distinction goes to Rick Clelan. I only ever saw Rick do one Melvin, but it only took one to get him a mention here.

               It was during indoor season. Paul, Rick, Rick “Spidey”  McGarry and I were on a long run. For whatever reason,  Clelan was getting the brunt of the blasts. Mackley must have been at Pedro’s the night before because he was really gassy. We were running through the State High athletic fields and Paul was on a roll. After about for blasts in about a five minute stretch, Rick had enough. There was a small set of bleachers, the kind you see next to a high school baseball field. The top of the bleachers were about five feet high. As we ran past the bleachers Rick suddenly veered right and ran up the treads. At the top, he jumped straight up. He had to be at least ten feet in the air. At the very top of his jump, he did a perfect saute. He then ripped the loudest and longest fart I ever heard to date. He landed perfectly and continued back to the Indoor Sports Complex as if nothing had happened. Humbled, Mackley kept his gas to himself for the rest of the run.

               I have seen some amazing athletic performances while at Penn State. I saw the 3200m relay win at Penn Relays in 1983, 85 and 86. I saw Eric Carter run some amazing races. I saw Steve Balkey have his breakthrough race at Syracuse, where he transformed from a hockey player to one of the best middle distance runners in Penn State history. All these feats are impressive. None of them match the pure athleticism of Clelan’s Melvin.

               While Clelan’s Melvin was the most athletic thing I ever saw while at Penn State, it was not the coolest. That honor goes to Bob Hudson when, during a run, he relieved himself right in the middle of College Avenue on a busy weekday without anyone noticing. How Hudson accomplished that feat is another story for another day.

               I learned a lot from my time at Penn State. Two things I learned that come to mind as I write here is that my Penn State friends were the best friends anyone could have ever have, and, as Barry Enright taught me thirty-two years ago, farts are always funny.

               One last thing I want to say on my one time honorary blog post. Running XC Club Nationals was REALLY FUN! I’m talking getting drunk at the office Christmas party and pulling down your pants fun. I’m talking going to a Dead Show, eating a kind brownie, and making out with a: Birkenstock wearing, non leg shaving, patchouli oil smelling girl named Donna Jean fun. Yet, running Nationals didn’t cause me to have any next day regrets or hangovers. Next year’s meet is in San Francisco.  I know Mackley and Adkins are both West Coasters. If they and the other alumni want to, in Coach’s words, “Strap a set of balls on” and form a master’s team, let me know. I’ll be there if I can get a permission slip from my wife.

Addendum:  John made me very happy with this submission.  Not just because it means I don't have to come up with a post, but because he reminded me of some very fond memories.  Pedro's was a very favorite haunt in the olden days.  It was originally Weiner World, and has since become Baby's, owned by Matt Millen Suhey, at least at first.  Taco, chili and chips for $0.99 (or double for $1.98!) on Thirsty Thursday meant a free extra-large Mountain Dew (back when it was with pure cane sugar like God intended).  So lunch and dinner were taken care of on that day of the week.  He also referenced our very own Blog Muse who guides me to this day with his poetic charm. Some of what he brought to the underclassmen following my exit probably came from me. May God have mercy on all of us.