Below is an article written by Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated. He details his experiences when given the opportunity to fly in a F-14 Tomcat. If you aren't laughing out loud by the time you get to "Milk Duds," your sense of humor is broken.




"Now this message is for America's most famous athletes:

Someday you may be invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have ... John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods to name a few.

If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity... Move to Guam.
Change your name.
Fake your own death!
Whatever you do ...

Do Not Go!!!

I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast! I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach.

Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast.

Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus 15 seconds and counting .." Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff."

Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning.

"Bananas," he said.

"For the potassium?" I asked.

"No," Biff said, "because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down."

The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot ... but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to hook up with Nicole Kidman, this was it.

A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious.

Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14. Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80. It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us.

We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie. And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before. And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade. I made Linda Blair look polite.

Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be egressed. I went through not one airsick bag, but two.

Biff said I passed out. Twice. I was coated in sweat.

At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.

I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.

A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit.

What is it? I asked.

"Two Bags."


Hope you enjoyed it,

Tim

 

Tooo funny!

And even with the graphic description, I'd still go up if offered the opportunity. Heck, they can call me "3 bags" if they wanted too. (Hopefully my sailors' stomach would protect me some)

Thanks for posting that.

 

Try it from a FLIGHT DECK. You might as well get the full experience...

~Wolf

 

man o man lucky guy
funny story.

 

one time was enough. off nam uss enterprise

 

Hmm.... that was good. Talk about an experiance, eh???

STan

 

yah 4 bags for me. if its got a prop and lands on land fine jet and flight deck nooo thanks

 

man o man what i would give to do that. i imagine that is what i am doing when i am teaching people to fly but the only problem is we can't do that stuff and second i don't think the students would like it. i was too tall to go military and fly so i wanted to but no luck!

 

I think I know Biff, -actually I know a young man that bears that resemblance that is going thru flight school in Pensacola at this moment. All I can say to him is "God speed and be safe" and I wouldn't trade him or any other like him for all of the NFL stars in the world. They are among the true heroes of this world. My hand still "remembers" his last visit and always will.

 

I have a great many hours flying gun runs and low level flying in Hueys and the rush you get from the ups and downs in tight situations. But to be able to fly in an F-14 would be such a thrill. With my bad back, I'd probably come out with a wheel chair afterwards, but man .... unimaginable! That story had me rolling too ... the Milk Duds from 6th grade and imaging Linda Blaire and her green spew being polite ......

 

All I can say is WOWwwwwwww. It would be worth tossing up everything you ate the day before for a ride like that. Only jet I ever rode in ( other than passanger jets ) was one of the Canadain Snowbirds tutor jets. Not nearly as fast, or as sexy as a Tomcat but still the thrill ride of my life. And I only used I barf bag.

 

the bad thing of a f14 is they are being fased out for the 18, the navy is first in doing so. oldest jet in the military ,

 

That was an interesting AND funny story, but one thing about it hit a nerve with me...celebrities and sports personalities being offered the chance to ride in an F14.
My question is WHY?????

I spent 20 years in the Air Force and was NEVER offered the opportunity to climb into a G-suit and go for a joy ride (at taxpayers (which I am one) expense). I know some units overseas would provide rides to those enlisted who were selected as airman or NCO of the quarter or other such distinction.

I wish, as a nation, we would jerk the pedestal out from under some of these jerks who think that "being a celebrity" should entitle them to something the rest of us will probably never have the opportunity to experience....BUT here in the "real" world...that'll never happen. People are so taken with the whole celebrity thing...stand in line for hours to get an autograph...NOT ME!!!

Sorry if I got carried away...