Thursday, December 11, 2008

Tally Ho From the Winter Solstice Gathering of Bases-Ball!

What ho, friends! It is I, W. P. Foxtrotty, reporting to you via tele-graph from the Ne-Vada territories! It is here, in the railroad siding known as Villa De Las Vegas, that the titans of the world of bases-ball have gathered for their seasonal conclave! At great cost, my employer, the Daily American and Irish-Abuser, has dispatched me to the Great West to provide the most up-to-date reports of the progress of our beloved Red Stockings in obtaining additional rapscallions and miscreants for their sporting contests to come.

Upon disembarking from the rail carriage here in Villa De Las Vegas, whom should I espy but our old friend Mr. Richard Henderson! Many are the stories I have concerning him. I first encountered Mr. Henderson when his itinerant carpetbaggery carried him into our fair Hub for a short-term stint with the Stockings. His reputation for swiftness, larkdom, and near-idiocy preceeded him, naturally! Few there be who have not heard of the follies of Henderson! What manner of beast be he, I thought? Surely he was some sort of man-beast hybrid, or perhaps a microcephalic of some sort. But nay! Upon witnessing the Henderson with mine own eyes, all was made clear! No beast be he -- truly, he doth have the manner of a nature spirit; the stuff of myth and legend! Surely neither Pan nor Mercury could best Henderson on the bases-path! And when the diminutive Henderson swung his cudgel, beware pitcher-of-ball! The blasted spheroid seeks thee! Mr. Henderson informed me, in his curious self-referential pidgin speak, that his name has been put forth for entry into the Halls of the Famous, wherein the greatest of bases-ball achieve immortality in the shadows of the great Doubleday's native Cooperstown. To which I say, bully on you, Henderson!

My Lodgings

Upon reaching my hostel, I inquired as to the Don Marco de los A. D. de N.C. de los A. de Teixeira, with a purpose of seeking an audience with the great man himself. To my horror, although not to my surprise, the popinjay behind the desk informed me that all inquiries as to the Don shall be funneled through the despicable Boras. Such a horror I cannot face, even for you, dear readers! Ergo, I have no news of the Don, nor of his current intentions.

While searching for a place of dining that did not stink of faeces, I ran into Freed-man Carsten C. Sabathia, for truly one cannot avoid running into such a mountain of a man. He confirmed to me, dear readers, that the perfidious Highlander trust has, as I predicted, offered him an unfathomable sum (for a freed-man) -- $0.80/day -- to decamp Mil-a-waul-kee and join the foul Knickerbockers in New York. The freed-man, no dummy he, knows that he cannot in good conscience reject such a lucrative windfall, even though his gaze may still be focused on the increasingly remote prospect of employment in the Alta California. I bid the gentle giant good-day and good-luck, and went on my way.

Unfortunately, I have not encountered any other notables, and have been unsuccessful in my attempts to contact Epstein, the crafty Hebrite in charge of personnel conscription for the Red Stockings. In fact, I have found that most of my time is now occupied with merely attempting to continue my Earthly existence. The Villa De Las Vegas is a squalid cesspool, where one cannot walk three paces without being accosted by a diseased whore, or tripping over a dead whore. The main form of entertainment consists of rigged games of chance, thuggery, and, of course, whoring. Whatever feverish desire possessed presumably reasonable humans and led them to establish this bottomless pit of depravity, I cannot explain.

I will report in via the tele-graph as events warrant!


GHABB,Y~! said...

You speak of whores like they're a bad thing.

stanley cup of chowder said...

My offer of a modest ration of ale to lend your wordsmith duties to the Canadian fur-trapper sport of ice hockey remains valid Mr. Foxtrotty. What is your knowlegde of this new-fangled sporting contest played on frozen bodies of water?