9th League vs. Edenvale

Good day, Titans!!!!!!!

After a losing streak that we and our kind would like to rather forget, the mighty and once again battle-ready Titans made their way, on what was a chilly autumn night, to the far reaches of the earth to reclaim honour and pride at all cost. After ducking and diving for two weeks, the Edenvale enemy had finally overcome their fear and scraped together a small cosmopolitan force of reluctant racket wielding mercenaries of different tongue and tribe. 

(That fear was, of course, induced by the Titans' over-eager early arrival on their shores on the night when we were actually meant to take on Bryanston in a home game. And we had thought that our true captain and Master, Chris the Cantankerous, had no hidden agenda nor strategy…)

The night's foreplay (read 'voor-wedstryd') came in the form a few ladies league games during which Leslie the Lecherous drooled so badly on his chest that it looked like he'd already played a match by the time the only holy Titan, Gabriel the Wingless, stepped onto the court to challenge the Far East's No. 2. Soon, however, the on court humidity exceeded the mist around Leslie as Gabriel and his opponent locked horns, so to speak. Gabriel lost the first but found his breath in the second and, with his patented measuring look of quiet superiority and adequate pauses to allow his opponent to catch his breath, he battled on to a razor-edge two games all standoff. A slightly longer break between games transpired eventually and all present knew that BMT developed over countless eons would be all that could save our replacement cherub. The score of the final game escapes me now but suffice to say that Gabriel the (now) Great turned his back to the long vertical crack in the corner between the front and right side walls – testimony to the other-worldly forces at work – and looked up at the gallery as if to say, "What the #@&$ did you guys expect?"

Next up was Willie against a wily captain with an injured ankle. I did not get to see the game but Willie's tenacious hip injury was worse than his opponent's swollen ankle and he went down graciously in 3 games. Fair game might have been if we'd fielded our own injured ankle in the form of Captain Chris, but Willie has never shied away from pain.

At the same time I worked my way to an easier than anticipated 3-0 win on the court on the other side of the wall. Perhaps the whole Guptagate saga had had an effect on the No 1 Indian from the East or maybe his mind was still at the wedding… Either way, he seemed unfocused and distant and maintained the same relationship with the ball.

With the Titans in the lead by 2 matches to one, Leslie the Lecherous then stepped onto court. Being the dodgy bugger we've come to know so well, he pretended to limp during warm-up, fouled easy shots and worked hard to convince his opponent that victory would come easy. Unbeknownst to the slightly less hairy easterner Leslie had been working on that survival act since childhood in Lisbon, albeit to attract the sympathy of the fairer sex. To add to the guise he wore his super trendy leg warmers (hockey socks) and sleeveless shirt, emphasizing his upper body strength and detracting attention from his lower body agility and speed. Three short games passed, interrupted only to borrow Willie's less used and more gripping squash tackies and, almost without breaking a sweat (almost), Leslie helped to secure a convincing comeback for the once again feared Titans!
Chambers  – 3
Edenvale   - 1

Overall result: Won  12 - 4