Extended travels have kept me from observing or listening to recent matches of the timeless game, but it’s clear the Olde Towne Team has had an equally sad soujourn. Even the cold calculus of a box score printed in a local broadsheet can’t obscure the carnage.
What has become of our reserve hurlers? The effect of their arrival on the hill can only be compared to an unfortunate meeting between a Zeppelin and a Tesla coil. Conflagration! It’s enough to cause the most stalwart Rooter to avert his eyes, rather than witness the pitiless toll.
Gentlemen! Steer your volatile airship away from danger!
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