Golden sunsets and black storms

Spell check is a treacherous thing. For one thing it converts "Rhiannon" to "Rhino" which is unlikely to endear one to a member of any Human Resources department, regardless of the actual dress size of the recipient. In a similar vein, predictive text renders "Smirnoff" as "poisoned" which is, after several months testing Russian vodka on behalf of the Tecumsehs, I can confirm, entirely accurate.

There is, as the Tecumseh server proved a couple of weeks ago, an inherent danger in relying on technology to perform even the simplest of tasks (or at least relying on it to perform that task only once).

It came as something as a surprise therefore, when we discovered some time ago that Micosoft Word's spell-checker feels compelled to change "tournament" to "torment". As with many Microsoft products, it's not entirely on the money. "Torment" does not really do justice to the Tecumseh day out at the LSF First Ball. A draw and a win interspersed with beer and homemade pie does not really qualify as a terrible, heart-rending time. The day after, and the day after that, now that's torment. Sunday is a day of rest. Especially after a softball Saturday. It is not a day of cricket or charity bicycle rides. You nutters.

In the absence of a suitably qualified North American to step up and take the traditional tournament random facial injury to a Canadian, Kat bravely supplied both a change of nationality and anatomical part to seal the bruise of the day award for the Tecumsehs for the third consecutive year.

It should be a source of enduring shame to the more filthy minded of the team that it has taken fifteen years in the GLSML to develop the antithesis of all motivational chants. The Raiders may have a fully choreographed cheerleading squad, but on the 13 May 2006 a new battle cry was added to the Tecumseh repetoire. Anyone thinking that Give me a "T"/Give me an "ecumsehs" was wearing a little thin will be relieved to hear that this week at the top of the Tecumseh top 40 is a new entry; Jane Culpan feat. Shell Grayson with Who put the cum in Tecumsehs? (Seth did) (the extended 3rd innings batting collapse remix).

It was somewhat fitting, especially for the men behind the plate all day, that the evening should be spent in Crouch End, where Laura showed herself to be a true Tecumseh by blagging chips from a reluctant management and Seth resolved the great potato stand-off in the most decisive of manners, leaving Culpan chipped at the post.

Are you talking about classical music? How gay are you?

Last night I learned a few things:-

There is more than one Fiona Shaw.

Bode's Law describes planetary orbits (although I may have known this and simply forgotten it.)

The decision that the Tecumsehs were to compete in an organised league was made in The Spread Eagle public house on Parkway, NW1 (ditto above parentheses).

Ah, The Spread Eagle, there we were headed. Eventually. This is not part of the list of things I learned.

Certain of our number have developed a taste for fabulously expensive Belgian Beer.

Jen has yet to provide full disclosure vis à vis the substitute pitch snafu; I am left with little else to report of a political nature.

As for the game itself, well, it was a woeful sixth inning what done us in. Otherwise, not having been party to last week's goings-on I have to say that it felt like we had improved a little. Our relief pitcher afforded no relief to the opposition, and our rookies shone again. There were more people on base, the fielding, that one ghastly inning aside, was exemplary. We were perhaps spent before the game started, having already covered more ground than the Duke of York's armies and this began to take it's toll on a heavy, gritty surface, as things wore on.

Next week it's our near-forgotten foes the Sumatra Panthers, to whom we have never lost a league game. They will, presumably, be aware of our results to date, so the extent to which this psychological advantage will stretch is debatable. They're jolly nice, and call themselves "Panthers" as opposed to "Kamis". The attractions of playing at Clapham South are manifold, though none are softball related. It'll be a laugh, even if it's another broken rung on the ladder that descends towards inevitable relegation. The beer, I seem to remember is pricey, but we won't let that put us off. Get a pass and come where the fumes from the A205 nobly and sweetly recommend themselves to one's senses.

Cheers!

Through a half-full glass, darkly

It was 24-2 to the gays (whoever designed those uniforms was straight, presumably). Our ladies defended immaculately but softball, like most sports, is a game of momentum and after some first inning miscues on the right side of the infield we couldn't get things going with the bat. Things got out of control at the end as the Raiders relaxed with a lead, but I think, despite Wednesday's solid professional performance from the opposition we should be optimistic about the return fixture. We'll be less anxious, there'll be less of a disparity in terms of quality practice between the teams, the Raiders will be pushing for promotion, one might suppose, and will have all the pressure on their shoulders. We didn't survive for the last two seasons purely because of blind luck and scoring shenanigans. That said, a brief perusal of the rest of the week's results suggests that perhaps the softball Gods are gazing down at us approvingly, in spite of our woes at the plate.

Do me proud on Wednesday. I'm counting on you. And remember:-

All I do each night is pray -
Hoping that I'll be a part of you again someday...

Run To The Hills

Re: last night's outcome - if it was expressed as a mathematic equation, with our score of "2" a known variable & their score the unknown variable, the equation would be best expressed by multiplication rather than by addition or subtraction. Or exponentially (a dark thought).

Moving on: there was much to take from the pitch in celebration. In Canadian ice hockey fashion, awarding three stars after each game to stalwarts - only we're going to forego the naff tradition of awarding prizes to the opposing team - the following were standouts last night:-

1st star - Hillary. A revelation at catcher, snaring two foul balls and reducing grown men to tears, bats trailing between their legs as they slunk back to their bench. Wonderful to behold.

2nd star - Shell. Three punishing catches in left-field, one a foul ball snared after a long run, play that pushed hitters out of their early swing comfort zone. Fantastic consistency.

3rd star - Kat. For snagging a low line drive from her perch at second at the top of the seventh, a certain extra base hit taken away. Hitters should think twice about challenging her athleticism.

Honourable mention - Adrian, for pitching a sterling game, consistently in the strike zone and forcing hitters to swing. Marvellous stuff.

Hopefully run-scoring accomplishments can be celebrated next week...

Laz

Вода капля камень точит

It is 1559.2 miles from Moscow to Clissold Park. The interweb told me, so it must be true. At 10.02pm local time yesterday evening Moscow and N16 shared a balmy 21 degrees Celsius, if not much else.

The population of Moscow is similar to that of the Tecumsehs; a fair few locals, a few expats, a smattering of those who have been here forever and a guy in the corner quoting Marx. There are ducks in Moscow, but disappointingly, no wild bears padding quietly amongst the crazed maypole dance of Lada Sputniks and Zighulis on the MKAD.

In 1971, besides the first plaintive wails of Cymru's first dual-boxered son, the Russians completed the first space station, the imaginatively named DOS-7K. One can only assume from this that all the decent project names had been reserved by Len Deighton some years previously.

Pravda also reported the death of pensioner N. Khrushchev in a single line somewhere on page 23; a demonstration of how the mighty can fall.


His headstone can be found in Novodevichy Cemetery, where the white half symbolises the good that he achieved and the black the bad.

Reports that his encouragement of the Germans to build the Berlin Wall provided inspiration for Elton John's tribute, Nikita are unconfirmed, but if true definitely belong to the dark side.

May the 9th is Victory Day. It is therefore unfortunate that the Tecumsehs' next match falls on the 10th. However given the Tecumseh tradition of being late and staying later, I am sure that this will not pose too much of a problem. The outfield's a bit dicey when filled with tanks.

In the words of Nikita: Мы вас похороним!