Thursday, September 14, 2006

Northern Caribou 3 - 3 Southern Dingoes

[X posted from my LJ]
Last night the Loan wolves played an end-of-season friendly, against ourselves. The team was split according to which side of the river we live. So, as southernmost-dwelling Wolf, I was a Dingo. If you see what I mean. "SuperBen" captained the Dingoes, and Paul "the Gobfather" was leading the Caribou. We've been working on our nicknames, as we're finally about to be getting the shirts printed.
I brought my Grolsch beer tube, and my Stella coolbag, and there were plenty of cans in evidence. Everyone was gung-ho for it, but it was a pretty friendly affair. Dingoes in red, Caribou in black or white (somehow, their plan to wear white in the field and black at bat got confused, and half the team turned out in each colour). Teams proved pretty well balanced - we were lucky that coach Darren had been persuaded to turn out for the Dingoes, being as how he lives in Clapham.
We wanted to get an early start, but the kids' baseball team were on the field, being shouted at by some angry sadist (e.g., to a kid of perhaps six who'd dared to open his mouth; "SHUT UP! I SAID SHUT UP!"). So it was nearly seven when we took to the field, and the game was curtailed by bad light.
Great fielding, dynamite pitching, and some poor batting (from me, in our case) kept the game tight and the scores low. I enjoyed being more active at Right Field, sprinting in to back up First, and on one occasion accidentally (honest) booting a ball into dead territory and preventing a home run from Paul. Ben got the only home run of the day with a cracking hit. The Dingoes lost a 2 run lead to end with a tied game, thus confirming our spiritual affinity with the other Wolves, who've beeen snatching high-score draws from the jaws of victory since my grandad's day.
At end of a softball game, the convention is that the teams get into huddles and give a rousing three cheers for the opposition. So we did, with Ben leading the Dingoes:
Ben: Hip Hip...
Dingoes: HUURAH!
Ben: Hip Hip...
Dingoes: HUURAH!
Ben: Hip Hip...
Dingoes: HUURAH!
Ben: Hip Hip...
Dingoes: bemused looks, as we'd mostly expected to stop at three...

With honours even, and light going (I couldn't find my beer where I'd left it in the outfield), we headed to the pub to unwind. Pub was crowded but Darren knew about a quiet (almost deserted) place round the corner, some sort of social club (anti-social club?), and we piled in there. Had a few beers and a natter, and we considered arbitrary grounds for deciding teams next year (glasses v no glasses, cat people v dog people, innies v outies?).
Good evening, but the theory that after this game at least half the Wolves would have known the taste of victory came to naught. Even against ourselves, we still can't win. Well, the end-of-year tournament's on the 23rd - let's change that statistic then.

2 comments:

Kate said...

We really need to work on our cheering - what with the Dingos not wanting to stop at the traditional 3, and the Caribou trying to be clever and shout "Hip Hip Dingo!" - but messing up each time...it's an area where we could definitely do better!

Andy said...

Yeah - team shouting practice needed!