The D'Ale Cup

Long ago, in the smoky taprooms and dusky garages of the MidSouth, a few dreamers dared to ask: What if pinewood derby racing wasn’t just for kids? From this noble question, the MidSouth Derby and Ales club was born. But even the boldest racers knew something was missing — a symbol, a relic, something to fight for. Thus, the D’Ale Cup was forged. Well, assembled. From a Hobby Lobby candle holder, a disgraced derby car, a license plate scrap, and a metal chalice questionably sourced from a flea market clearance bin. Like the One Ring, it called to them. And they answered.

The base of the Cup, a stout pedestal of mystery wood (clearance rack, 40% off), represents the unwavering foundation of the club’s spirit: resilience, creativity, and the inability to pass up a good craft store deal. Affixed to its side is a mangled pinewood derby car, a long-forgotten racer from the club’s inaugural season. Legends say this car, known only as “Magic Man”, crashed so spectacularly that its driver swore a solemn oath to never build again — instead, immortalizing their shame by holding up the D’Ale Cup for eternity.

Atop the trophy sits the chalice itself — once bearing the mark of a Playboy bunny, now dutifully hidden behind the proud emblem of the MidSouth Derby and Ales. Every champion must drink from the Cup, a tradition said to impart both great power and mild regret. Those brave enough to claim it are bound to inscribe their name upon its wooden base, joining an honored league of champions, each one a little more unhinged than the last.

The D’Ale Cup is not simply handed to winners. No, it is earned through fire, foam, and hops. Battles are waged across brewery floors, the air thick with the scent of yeast and ambition. Some say you don’t really win the D’Ale Cup — it chooses you, whispering your destiny as your battered block of wood crosses the finish line. And once chosen, you must protect it, cherish it, and haul it around like a medieval knight hauling the Holy Grail to happy hour.

Today, the D’Ale Cup stands tall — dusty, dented, and dignified. It is a beacon to those who believe that adulthood doesn’t have to mean growing up. Those who understand that a little bit of beer, a little bit of sawdust, and a lot of heart can still make magic. Long may it reign.

The Awakening

Inspired by a late-night conversation fueled by IPAs and poor judgment, the first MidSouth Derby and Ales races are held. A loser car from the second race, nicknamed “Magic Man”, is tragically retired and later mounted onto what would become the D’Ale Cup.

The Great Craft Store Heist

Amidst a sale at Hobby Lobby, the legendary wooden trunk of the trophy is acquired. Some say it still smells faintly of seasonal cinnamon.

The Reforging

An abandoned metal mug with a Playboy bunny logo is discovered at an antique shop. After a failed attempt to remove the logo, a brilliant solution emerges: just slap the MidSouth Derby and Ales sticker over it. A new era begins.

The First Inscription

The first champion boldly signed their name into the D’Ale Cup with a borrowed Sharpie and questionable spelling. A tradition is born: each champion adds their name, their story, and sometimes their bar tab.

(as first inscribed in the year of Our D’Ale, Twenty-Nineteen)

1. Thou Shalt Race With Honor

All competitors must construct their steed (pinewood car) using only the materials blessed by tradition: wood, wheels, hope, and whatever glue still works after being left in a hot garage.

2. The Champion Must Drink from the Cup

Upon victorious completion of the final race, the Champion shall immediately raise the D’Ale Cup high and drink forth from its mighty chalice — be it filled with beer, cider, or the tears of their rivals.

3. Thy Name Must Be Inscribed Upon the Cup

The Champion shall immortalize their name onto the sacred vessel, that future generations may know who reigned — and who misspelled their own name.

4. The Cup Must Be Displayed with Glory

During the Offseason, the Cup shall reside with the reigning Champion, who must protect it from harm, thieves, bad spouses, and inexplicable garage fires. The Cup must be displayed where it may bask in admiration and occasional confused stares.

5. Respect the Spirit of D’Ale

D’Ale, the spirit of wood and ale, watches over the Cup. Champions must race with courage, toast with enthusiasm, and never take themselves too seriously.

6. If the Cup is Lost or Damaged, an Epic Quest Must Be Undertaken

Should catastrophe befall the D’Ale Cup — be it theft, destruction, or sudden teleportation to another dimension — the entire club must embark on an epic (and highly inconvenient) quest to retrieve or rebuild it, fueled only by craft beer and raw determination.

7. All Shall Remember: The Cup Chooses Its Champion

Victory may seem earned by speed or cunning, but those truly wise understand — the D’Ale Cup chooses who shall carry its burden. Sometimes that means the fastest. Sometimes it just means the drunkest. Trust in D’Ale.

(as whispered by the Elders of the Ale and carved into a long-since demolished bathroom stall at LibertyLand)

It is foretold that one day, when the hops have withered and the last pint has been poured, a Final Champion shall arise. Their car shall be neither the fastest, nor the prettiest, but it shall burn with the Spirit of D’Ale — reckless, magnificent, and slightly off-center.

On that day, when the last race concludes and the final cheers echo into silence, the D’Ale Cup shall shimmer and hum with ancient power. Those gathered shall witness a great light (or perhaps just the neon beer sign flickering out) — and the Cup shall choose to leave this world behind.

Some say it will ascend to the Great Taproom in the Sky, to join the pantheon of sacred relics: the Holy Growler, the Bottomless Pretzel Basket, and the Lost Hoodie of Everlasting Warmth.

Others claim the Final Champion shall vanish with the Cup, whisked away to an eternal afterparty, where the tracks are always fast, the kegs never run dry, and every derby car somehow goes perfectly straight.

Until that day comes, the MidSouth Derby and Ales shall race on, knowing that with every wobbly wheel and every glorious spill, they edge closer to destiny.

Race boldly, champions. The Cup watches.