Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front

At least this aging commentator’s heart was lifted by the most recent night at Baba’s which proved to be a fertile pitch for a spirit of pluck, tenacity, verve, and understated ferocity served in a cunning display of good sportspersonship, not seen perhaps since the fabled ‘Pall Mall’ matches of 1687. There were fireworks aplenty, thanks to James “the Match” Dalton as well as the players on the field. The wickets were as pointed as they were in the New Zealand meadow wars of 1942, the hoops no less enigmatic than in the Amazonian Invitational last year. There were specific challenges that reared their capricious heads throughout the evening, including ‘Tutankhamen’s Hoop’, a bafflingly haloed piece of pasture on the western side of the Dragon’s Back that provided self-righteous vexation to all, and ‘Baba’s Triangle,’ a subtle range of brush between three (again western) trees in which more than one ball was lost for several moments.

There were several successful new conceptual additions to the fray, including the ‘Daler,’ named after our current champion. Of course one never knows the intrinsic innerworkings of the USCA’s proclivities, but I think they would also nod approvingly at the democratic inclusion of the ‘Poison’ motif into the standard ball and mallet idiom that so dominates the slightly prosaic thrust of so much of the game today. Even the Mona Lisa needs a facelift every once in a while. Thomas Jefferson would certainly agree, as might Benjamin Franklin, after getting the Freemason Grand Lodge’s approval.

The setting was, as in previous matches, on the scenic lawn of Robert Reeder, and a more suitable setting for this cosmic battle I could not imagine. Disarmingly rustic in its charm, the lawn exuded a sort of domestic tranquility, laced with polite and courteous blood sport. There was a steely glint in each of the players’ eyes, a controlled fury harmonizing with the sound of ball on ball. Indeed, passions ran so high that the controlling external influence of extensive caddy work was called for and used expertly by Dale Stephens (Keith Wegman), Hillary Swanson (Allison Honeycutt), and Darjaal Cahill, who in her signature Peruvian style, used over three different assistants over the course of the night. Joe Moschak, flying solo, nearly capsized the playing field with a stunning comeback in the last ticking moments of the Final Round, badly bedfuddling Robert Reeder and Dale Stephens’ westside victory ruminations, but in the end both he and Robert fell victim to Poison’s unpredictable fancies. We congratulate and wish Mr. Stephens well in his victory, and beg him to wear the jacket with the pride and reverence so painstakingly exhibited by Vladimir Prochnow in Konigsberg, 1917.