Showing posts with label Roland Deschain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roland Deschain. Show all posts

03 December 2004

A few words on the Dark Tower series...

My last two kickball match summaries borrow liberally from the final book of Stephen King's Dark Tower series. I really haven't read much of King's horror novellas, but enjoyed the Dark Tower immensely.

King's work is in turn inspired by other sources - a poem by Robert Browning, Arthurian legend, Tolkien, Westerns, and so on. A number of his one-shot books are tied to worlds of the Dark Tower series.

King started the series in 1970/1, and the last of the seven books was published a couple of months ago. I started reading the first book, The Gunslinger (which opens, "The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed), in 1998, when it was given to me by a young man named Jay when I was in Barcelona. I highly recommend them.

The Dark Tower and the field of roses.

Stephen King's Dark Tower series


The gunslinger

The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed

Final Score: Project Mayhem 2, Screwballs 0

This match took place on October 13, 2004, the first round of the playoffs. We lost the following week to the eventual champion My Other Left Foot. Oh, and the Screwballs wore black t-shirts.

Never Mind the Bollocks

Ka is a wheel. This was confirmed when it turned out that the Crimson King, the raving red goblin referee of the preceding week, was a member of the Screwballs, whose card we drew in the first round of the playoffs.

Early in our quest we had met the, ahem, seasoned Screwballs, falling 7-2. Since then, though, Project Mayhem had learned much, and the Screwballs’ joints were tightening up with the onset of Fall. We had reached the field of roses at the edge of the Tower, and we were ready to face the Crimson King and her can-toi.

Dandelo, their pitcher, was there, but we heeded the warnings of the lost, and remembered the faces of our fathers. Dandelo’s first gambit came in the pre-game ritual, during which he attempted to junk the time-honoured Royal Division tradition of rock-paper-scissors. He bitched loudly that the Screwballs only do coin tosses. The rulebook backed up the Balls on this one (Rule 3.06 does indeed state that the "Head Referee shall flip a coin to determine which team gets to chose whether they bat or play the field to start the 1st inning.) 39th opted for rock anyway (given Washington’s presence on Mt. Rushmore) and, though it fell tails, the Screwballs elected to field first.

The Referee, Jon, announced at the beginning of the match that the strike zone would be wide, and high. This led to many bouncy bunts, and consequently a lower score. The gunslingers of Project Mayhem opened with a two run first inning, and a defensive battle ensued.

The Balls’ next complaint regarded the Mayhemers’ starting pitcher, Charlie. They insisted that Charlie was not a registered Kickball player (confirmation number VANE67320182, for those keeping score at home). The Screwballs’ delusions, coming in the same week as the Death of Superman (this time Doomsday was not to blame), really brought home the fact that we need to tackle Alzheimer’s any way we can.

No matter. Charlie’s pitches unfurled truly, and on a couple of occasions the Screwballs were struck out. Most of Charlie’s other pitches ended up bouncing softly into the hands of our able fielders. Of course, with the liberal, though consistently called, strike zone, Project Mayhem had trouble adding runs of its own.

Come the bottom of the 5th, and Project Mayhem was still holding its 2-0 lead. With 2 outs, the Screws’ first base dodderer Travis came to the plate. One more bouncy pitch and Charlie cradled the winning out in his gentle arms – the Screwballs were vanquished.

Though defanged, the Balls still had plenty of bark, and spent the next few minutes bitching out Jon the Ref. True, his strike zone was wider than 5th Base’s Third Basemen’s legs, but it was announced beforehand and consistent throughout. What prompts such competitive ire in the Screwballs? Judging by their weathered faces, they may have already passed the time of transference. One can easily imagine Dandelo hurling invective during his child’s football/baseball/American football game. The only problem? By now his spawn have moved beyond high school, and perhaps even intramural sports at college, leaving only kickball as his last chance for redemption.

Off to the Inch, where Project Mayhem found themselves facing Playing the Field, who had taken the forfeit rather than meet us on Field B several weeks ago. But Ka is a wheel…Playing the Field took a 3-1 lead but Project Mayhem rallied in spite of long odds, winning three straight to give the Field the spanking they had long eluded. This may seem trifling, but Project Mayhem was heretofore winless in flip-cup, despite many attempts. Dharma can only hope that her Sox succeed in their rally.

And who joined our ka-tet, but none other than Ref Jon! Ka is a wheel.

And what of the Screwballs? A few of their younger members were at the Inch, but the older denizens had long since headed off. The reason, of course: the debate was on, and the Bollocks feared that, in addition to taking victory from them on the field, the nubile young Project Mayhemers would soon be stealing away their Social Security checks if privatization comes to fruition. Only time will tell.

As for the following week’s match with MOLF, we can offer only these thoughts:

David:Goliath::Project Mayhem:MOLF

Like David’s slingshot, Charlie’s Orizas will fly true. The rest is in Ka’s hands. We have entered the field of roses and beyond that we shall find either the Dark Tower or the clearing at the end of the path.

P.S. There is no such rule as 3.06 or any required coin flip.

29 November 2004

Childe Mayhem to the Royal Division Came

Though dressed immaculately in black trousers and a matching sweater, our referee may as well have been running around her domain in her nightgown like a certain 18th century king…A Crimson King, she was locked out of her domain, dwelling deliriously on a balcony she could not escape, never to regain control of the Dark Tower, or her mental faculties. But she would do her best to deny the gunslingers of Project Mayhem, and the low men (and women) of Cock-Tails, ascension to the top of the Tower.

“Is that the Crimson King?” co-Dinh April asked.

“Yes,” James replied. “Locked out of the only thing she ever wanted.”

“Then maybe we could go right up the stairs and past her. Give her the old raspberry on the way by.” And when James looked puzzled at that, April put her tongue between her lips and demonstrated.

This time the gunslinger’s smile was faint and distracted. “I don’t think it will be so easy.”

James, last in the line of Eld, was justified in his apprehension. Even before the first shot rang out, the Crimson King loudly proclaimed that no one would strike out, nor would anyone be awarded a walk. With all but fouls irrelevant, judicious application of the bunt led to pitch counts of 7-8-3. But wait, the Red Goblin would make a special exception for taut Mayhemer Chris, who doth protest too much. Like any delusional unaccountable sovereign, the Crimson King’s arbitrary foul/fair calls went forth, in an orderly cadence that attempted to put truth to the lie that she had any grasp of this great game. O, Discordia!

The bemused Breakers of Cock-Tails took it all in stride, gaining a 4-1 lead on precision kicking through the 2nd Inning. The maddeningly inconsistent, and tantalizingly sexy, Mayhemers looked like they were headed for the clearing at the end of the path, but our Dinh would not stand for this.

On Field B, James looked first at Sarah Ahren(s) Mehta, then at Enrique Chumbes. “They’re coming, and this is where we have to take them. Wait for my command, then stand and be true.”

In the top of the 3rd, the gunslingers remembered the faces of their fathers. Unholstering their legs like the antique shooters with sandalwood grips, Project Mayhem kicked fair, putting in five runs. Though several gunslingers were lost in the battle, the quest for the Tower continued, as the tag-ups on fly balls were true, and yet not called back by the Crimson King.

From the bottom of the 3rd onwards, our ka-tet would allow the Tails only one more run. Charlie Pitcher released his balls and, as if they were Oriza’s chiming in his sack, they scythed through the air, decapitating the Cocks’ attempts at rejoinders. In one memorable inning, Charlie scooped up two of the low men’s balls to close it out. Don’t lob soft bunts near Charlie!

We no longer feared the mad monarch and, as James texted the absent Jenny Marie, “You’ll be with me when I climb the stairs, you’ll be with me when I deal with yon capering Red Goblin, and you’ll be with me when I enter the room at the top.” Yet Jenny went to Atlantis-Japone, not the Inch.

There was rejoicing, but James’s joy was tempered by the sacrifice (flies) that fallen Mayhemers made in this victory, and on this long road (like Dharma in Field A’s canyon):

So far I’ve traveled, he thought with his hands splayed on the ghostman base. So far I’ve traveled and so many I’ve hurt along the way, hurt or killed, and what I may have saved was saved by accident and can never save my soul, do I have one. Yet there’s this much: I’ve come to the head of the last trail, and I need not travel it alone, if only Tyler will go with me. Mayhap (Mayhem!) there’s still enough to fill my basket.

With Abbye, Jeff, Brooke, Doug, Joanna, Hemen, Dawn and Jon in tow, James’s basket is indeed full, but hungry still…

Michelle asked, “Dinh, with our ka-tet broken, will we still reach the Tower?”

“We’ll go,” James said. “We’ll find the Dark Tower, and nothing will stand against us, and before we go in, we’ll speak their names. All of the lost.”

Cuthbert, that guy named Paul who showed up once, Cynan, Susan Delgado, and Robert Paulson.

Mandy had this last warning for her fellow gunslingers of Project Mayhem: “Watch out for Dandelo.”

Would they heed it?

Final Score: Project Mayhem 7, Cock-Tails 5