The Final Five

Thursday was the first big day of competition. Prelims. We got to the Hyatt Regency Hotel early. Advisors aren't allowed back in the waiting room with the teams, so Mr. Biddle dropped us off and headed to our demonstration room.

We studied and waited for our turn. Since Area we had one ritual we did before every competition. We joined hands and prayed as a team. Knowing our time was coming, we joined hands, prayed, and settled our nerves. Out we went.

I don't remember the main motion, or any motions for that matter. I remember going to the conference room after all prelims were over for the announcement. They announced the 12 teams that made it to Semi-finals, and we were one of the twelve! One step closer to our Final Four goal.

Waiting in the hotel lobby.

Friday came. We got to the Hyatt. Biddle dropped us off at our waiting room.

Turkey Sandwich Bowling.

The wait on Friday seemed to take forever! We had studied and practiced so much that week, we were tired of studying, so we reverted back to our old state habits. The boys took our Robert's Rules of Order books and set them up like bowling pins. They used their saran wrapped sandwiches as bowling balls. Thus the infamous turkey sandwich bowling was created. Our fellow competitors looked on in confusion at the idiots from Missouri. (California specifically turned their noses up at us, but we had been warned about them already. They are also known to be top competitors at Nationals.)

Our time came. We prayed, then in we walked to our demonstration. I was disappointed to see Object to the Consideration of the Question was on our card. I had grown to love being "The Objector." Then I realized it was bolded. Meaning it was my motion! We had this in the bag. Hello, Final Four!

We stood in front of the judges for our post demonstration questions. Since I had Object on my card, questions about that motion went to me. I could see the flabbergasted expression from the judges as I recited the answer word-for-word as Robert's reads. (That was one of two compliments they wrote on our feedback. Needless to say it was a proud moment for my Parli days.)

Going into the room where they were to announce the Final Four, we felt confident. We had done our best demonstration to date. Squatty, bald guy was there, and he even told us he was shocked, and pleased, at how far we had come. (Considering he was currently a judge, this reinforced our confidence.)

The announcement came.

Advancing to Final Four: Michigan, Oklahoma, Arizona, and New Mexico.

We were crushed. Tears flowed down all of the girls cheeks. We couldn't get out of that room fast enough.

Mr. Biddle grabbed all of us and took us to the conference room next door. He had the privilege of watching the other teams demonstrations and even he was amazed we hadn't made it. A few of our teammate's parents had come to Indy as well (mine were on their way, hoping to get to watch us in the finals), so he snatched them into the room, too. He consoled us, told us how proud he was, and that not making it to finals wasn't something to be disappointed about. We had still made it to Nationals. He hugged us and dismissed us one last time.

Parents headed to the escalators, so they could go back to their hotels and get a head start home to Missouri. I called my parents letting them know they could slow down. We hadn't made finals. (They were bringing my sister, because she was getting her American Degree the next morning. It just worked out that I was competing the same year.)

Our team stumbled our way around the hallway and waited for Mr. Biddle. He had gotten called over by the announcer guy.

Biddle must have had a sixth sense, because before the guy said anything to him, Biddle yelled to us to stop our parents. We began screaming across, and down the hotel escalators for them to come back up.

We didn't wait for them to return, we just followed Biddle to the announcer guy. He apologized profusely. He had made a mistake when reading the Final Four teams. Missouri was supposed to advance to finals, not New Mexico! (I'm not sure he should have revealed to us the team who wasn't supposed to advance, but at that moment, we could care less.)

Our very confused parents had arrived by then to find us crying even more, but this time with smiles as wide as the Missouri River. WE MADE IT!

They rushed us to Finals Hall. (It was in the actual convention center, connected to the Hyatt, but still a decent walk away.) We had lost a good chunk of time compared to the other four teams. As we jogged, I called my parents back and told them to put the pedal to the metal.

Right after finding out we had actually made it to
the Final "Five" Four.