Eyewitness accounts of the events which unfolded on a hot clear day at the croquet resort have been pieced together. This much we know.
After quickly becoming poison, Sticky Wicket went on a killing spree. He coldly and methodically murdered his opponents. Sometimes sniping at them from afar. Sometimes up close and very personal. With only two opponents left, Sticky sighted in on Mallethead who had seen the horror and was trying to hide behind and next to the right middle wicket stake. Sticky cocked his weapon and fired a shot striking Mallethead and continuing through the wicket experiencing death with no dignity.
Emerging from the shadows, the last player alive stepped forward to claim victory. That player, Leftie, flush with his good fortune, went on to win the second game.
Given the dramatic ending to the first game, the POD goes to Sticky Wicket who hubris resulted in his fall from grace and ignominious demise.
c
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
POET Results August 21
Game Won
He’s known by all as Mr. Wicket
His dead eye shot is his ticket
He lined them up fast
And gave them a blast
To all Cowabungas he did stick it.
Game Too
There once was a player named Sticky
Who found few wickets very tricky
As others shots failed
By Sticky they were nailed
And he won the last round very quickly
Guest Fest
The guy from down south was a loner
Each shot of his was a groaner
At break time he flew
A stealth craft over the crew
And claims now the label of Droner.
Leftie Eclipsed
Leftie Eclipsed
Leftie was a player it's true
He knew the game through and through
The shots he sprayed were hit and run
Many a game were by him won
One sad day his shots didn't fall
But Leftie stood there dazed and tall
We all knew he couldn't win them all
Ah but that's the way it goes.
All the Cowabungas say
What happened to Leftie's game today
That's not the way he usually plays
And now he's going home.
He knew the game through and through
The shots he sprayed were hit and run
Many a game were by him won
One sad day his shots didn't fall
But Leftie stood there dazed and tall
We all knew he couldn't win them all
Ah but that's the way it goes.
All the Cowabungas say
What happened to Leftie's game today
That's not the way he usually plays
And now he's going home.
The Mother of All Prefuncs August 21
They independently drifted to the fence overlooking the ocean. The blue sky above and the grey fog below were engaged in a Civil War of sorts. Staking their claims to prime viewing sites, the viewers placed their chairs. They wrapped and unwrapped themselves according to the element winning the War. Then, the Cowabunga clan waited.
Travelers from the east awoke in their parked cars. They yawned and stretched and claimed their spaces on the dewy ground. Overhead the sun rose higher in the morning sky. From the west, the fog advanced. Muted discussions about finding better viewing grounds could be heard.
Slowly, the moon began to ingest the sun in the misty sky. People were heard to claim they had seen unusual and life changing shapes. The Cowabunga entourage stood and considered their circumstances. Mr. Wicket, who had plodded home in search of more chairs, called to report that the croquet course was blessed with abundant sunshine and visibility. The exodus began. The Cowabungas packed up and moved through the mists careful not to encourage the eastern travelers to follow them, except for one woman with a high end Nikon camera who was cool and promised to send a photo file to anyone who wanted it.
Like a gypsy band, the Cowabunga entourage shuffled to the course, the secular vortex. Upon arrival, chairs were placed, necks were craned and cheap paper optics were donned for viewing. The Nikon lady had a smartphone app telling her when totality would start, when naked eye observation could start and end, and when the eclipse would end. What an excellent addition to the group. We decided to call her Angela, the eclipse angel.
Cowabungas began to speak in a binary language never before uttered under dimming light. OOOOOOhs and AAAAHs were punctuated by gasping breaths. A great teacher emerged from the main Mar-a Lawno clubhouse with scientific viewing devices. A colander hat served as a shadow focuser. Cardboard implanted binoculars also cast shadows on a paper plate. A welding helmet was introduced. It was like a MENSA meeting of the seriously liberal.
Throughout the celestial display, amid the nervous laughter and silently offered prayers, bizarre musical references, arcane facts and both tasteful and tasteless jokes were uttered. Suddenly, an impromptu field trip began. The great teacher lead her acolytes around the grounds discovering and marveling at the upside down crescent shadows on walls, the upside down crescent shadows within shadows. Life as we knew it metamorphosed into the realm between shadow and light.
When the moon swallowed the sun, all were stunned by the beauty and mystery. The magic of the moment was pierced by Angela who said, "you may now remove your protective eyewear and behold the sublime," or maybe "take off your glasses." Our naked eyes adjusted to the darkness with modesty. Someone said that their floaters were miraculously gone only to retract the statement when the spouting, bubbling sunlight escaped from under and around the moon. The great teacher hugged everyone, personally air dropping good vibes. Hallelujah. Hallelujah.
After what seemed to be ages, Angela said, "quick put on your glasses or be blinded by the light and be condemned to perpetual darkness," of maybe "time's up." With eyes protected, the transit of the moon across the sun was timed by, of course, Angela and her app. People shifted in their chairs and described their innermost feelings about the wondrous event they had witnessed. As the light grew stronger, eclipse fruit was offered and eaten.
With daylight restored, the Sticky Wicket contingent arrived. Sticky recounted his adventure in the surf. He had paddled out on his loooongboard in the dismal surf to watch the eclipse. Sort of an old man and the sea meets the Three Stooges sans Moe and Curly. Unfortunately, Sticky's protective eyewear did not survive the paddle out. Poor Sticky.
Shortly after the moon passed by the sun, in the glorious light of the day, Mr. Wicket announced, "Croquet at three." Thus ending, the most magnificent prefunc ever and setting the stage for the first POET (Post Eclipse Tournament).
Travelers from the east awoke in their parked cars. They yawned and stretched and claimed their spaces on the dewy ground. Overhead the sun rose higher in the morning sky. From the west, the fog advanced. Muted discussions about finding better viewing grounds could be heard.
Slowly, the moon began to ingest the sun in the misty sky. People were heard to claim they had seen unusual and life changing shapes. The Cowabunga entourage stood and considered their circumstances. Mr. Wicket, who had plodded home in search of more chairs, called to report that the croquet course was blessed with abundant sunshine and visibility. The exodus began. The Cowabungas packed up and moved through the mists careful not to encourage the eastern travelers to follow them, except for one woman with a high end Nikon camera who was cool and promised to send a photo file to anyone who wanted it.
Like a gypsy band, the Cowabunga entourage shuffled to the course, the secular vortex. Upon arrival, chairs were placed, necks were craned and cheap paper optics were donned for viewing. The Nikon lady had a smartphone app telling her when totality would start, when naked eye observation could start and end, and when the eclipse would end. What an excellent addition to the group. We decided to call her Angela, the eclipse angel.
Cowabungas began to speak in a binary language never before uttered under dimming light. OOOOOOhs and AAAAHs were punctuated by gasping breaths. A great teacher emerged from the main Mar-a Lawno clubhouse with scientific viewing devices. A colander hat served as a shadow focuser. Cardboard implanted binoculars also cast shadows on a paper plate. A welding helmet was introduced. It was like a MENSA meeting of the seriously liberal.
Throughout the celestial display, amid the nervous laughter and silently offered prayers, bizarre musical references, arcane facts and both tasteful and tasteless jokes were uttered. Suddenly, an impromptu field trip began. The great teacher lead her acolytes around the grounds discovering and marveling at the upside down crescent shadows on walls, the upside down crescent shadows within shadows. Life as we knew it metamorphosed into the realm between shadow and light.
When the moon swallowed the sun, all were stunned by the beauty and mystery. The magic of the moment was pierced by Angela who said, "you may now remove your protective eyewear and behold the sublime," or maybe "take off your glasses." Our naked eyes adjusted to the darkness with modesty. Someone said that their floaters were miraculously gone only to retract the statement when the spouting, bubbling sunlight escaped from under and around the moon. The great teacher hugged everyone, personally air dropping good vibes. Hallelujah. Hallelujah.
After what seemed to be ages, Angela said, "quick put on your glasses or be blinded by the light and be condemned to perpetual darkness," of maybe "time's up." With eyes protected, the transit of the moon across the sun was timed by, of course, Angela and her app. People shifted in their chairs and described their innermost feelings about the wondrous event they had witnessed. As the light grew stronger, eclipse fruit was offered and eaten.
With daylight restored, the Sticky Wicket contingent arrived. Sticky recounted his adventure in the surf. He had paddled out on his loooongboard in the dismal surf to watch the eclipse. Sort of an old man and the sea meets the Three Stooges sans Moe and Curly. Unfortunately, Sticky's protective eyewear did not survive the paddle out. Poor Sticky.
Shortly after the moon passed by the sun, in the glorious light of the day, Mr. Wicket announced, "Croquet at three." Thus ending, the most magnificent prefunc ever and setting the stage for the first POET (Post Eclipse Tournament).
Sunday, August 20, 2017
August 19 PEE
The Pre Eclipse Event (PEE) was held yesterday at the Mar-a-Lawno resort course. Two rounds were played on the original course layout. No confusion yesterday.
Mr. Wicket won the first game. Leftie won the second game. The Nortenos swept.
Although there is no SOD to report, there was a disturbing incident. The airspace above the Mar-a-Lawno was invaded by a drone operated by a Californicator who has threatened to publicly release the photos taken if not granted honorary Cowabunga status. Fortunately, Sticky and Leftie were not shirtless and no one was adjusting their man parts. The threat and official response will be discussed at the PEP (Pre Eclipse Party) later today.
Mr. Wicket won the first game. Leftie won the second game. The Nortenos swept.
Although there is no SOD to report, there was a disturbing incident. The airspace above the Mar-a-Lawno was invaded by a drone operated by a Californicator who has threatened to publicly release the photos taken if not granted honorary Cowabunga status. Fortunately, Sticky and Leftie were not shirtless and no one was adjusting their man parts. The threat and official response will be discussed at the PEP (Pre Eclipse Party) later today.
Friday, August 18, 2017
Course of Confusion Results August 17
Leftie won, outlasting all comers in the longest round ever played prior to a total eclipse.
Mr. Wicket had the SOD when, from a lengthy distance, he hit Sticky's ball sending it through the wicket. Then, using his two strokes, Mr. Wicket went through the same wicket, hitting Sticky's ball a second time for two more strokes.
Every player suffered acute bouts of confusion during the round. The sound track curated by Mr. Wicket helped moderate the mental fog experienced by all the Cowabungas except Mr. Balls who was absent.
Mr. Wicket had the SOD when, from a lengthy distance, he hit Sticky's ball sending it through the wicket. Then, using his two strokes, Mr. Wicket went through the same wicket, hitting Sticky's ball a second time for two more strokes.
Every player suffered acute bouts of confusion during the round. The sound track curated by Mr. Wicket helped moderate the mental fog experienced by all the Cowabungas except Mr. Balls who was absent.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
Thursday, August 10, 2017
August 10 Results
Two rounds were played today by Mr. Wicket, Surferino, Wick O'Shay and Sticky Wicket. The course was mole free. Increasingly foggy conditions prevailed.
In game one, Mr. Wicket's long distance kill shot on Wick would have been the SOD. But, Surferino's backward, through the legs hit on Wick's ball was the SOD. Surferino went on to kill Mr. Wicket, earning the victory.
In the second game, Surferino became poison after Sticky Wicket but committed suicide by hitting his ball through a wicket. Mr. Wicket's risky and missed shot on Wick resulted in Sticky's short kill shots for victory. It must be noted that Sticky once again required kisses from Mrs. Wicket during the game, an unusual but cagey tactic.
In game one, Mr. Wicket's long distance kill shot on Wick would have been the SOD. But, Surferino's backward, through the legs hit on Wick's ball was the SOD. Surferino went on to kill Mr. Wicket, earning the victory.
In the second game, Surferino became poison after Sticky Wicket but committed suicide by hitting his ball through a wicket. Mr. Wicket's risky and missed shot on Wick resulted in Sticky's short kill shots for victory. It must be noted that Sticky once again required kisses from Mrs. Wicket during the game, an unusual but cagey tactic.
Thursday, August 3, 2017
August 3 Results
On a sultry day under a smoky but cloudless sky, Pedro, Mr. Wicket, Leftie, Sticky Wicket, Surferino and Wick O'Shay played two rounds. The course was fast and in excellent shape.
Sticky Wicket won the first game. Mrs. Sticky Wicket arrived on a bike during the game when Sticky was floundering. She planted numerous kisses on his mug, energizing and prompting him to become the type of player worthy of such fairway affection. Lucky Sticky, kissy kissy suck face.
Mr. Wicket won the second game. Wick missed a kill shot leaving his ball inches away begging for the coup de gras delivered by Mr. Wicket.
No SOD or POD today. Good shots, goofy shots and bonehead shots predominated. With six players, the time waiting for one's next turn could have been spent playing Cowabunga cornhole. See the August 2 posting by Mr. Wicket for details. Although being involved in two concurrent games might result in Game Attention Deficiency, (GAD), a serious and debilitating disorder treatable only by full spectrum THC or not.
Sticky Wicket won the first game. Mrs. Sticky Wicket arrived on a bike during the game when Sticky was floundering. She planted numerous kisses on his mug, energizing and prompting him to become the type of player worthy of such fairway affection. Lucky Sticky, kissy kissy suck face.
Mr. Wicket won the second game. Wick missed a kill shot leaving his ball inches away begging for the coup de gras delivered by Mr. Wicket.
No SOD or POD today. Good shots, goofy shots and bonehead shots predominated. With six players, the time waiting for one's next turn could have been spent playing Cowabunga cornhole. See the August 2 posting by Mr. Wicket for details. Although being involved in two concurrent games might result in Game Attention Deficiency, (GAD), a serious and debilitating disorder treatable only by full spectrum THC or not.
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
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