Alumni Weekend 2014

Alumni Weekend header

Friday, August 8th – Sunday, August 10th

Many of us had our doubts after the 83rd day of January this year, but it now appears that Summer 2014 is actually going to happen, and that means that the annual Haliburton Scout Reserve Staff Alumni Weekend is just around the corner. Whether it’s an annual tradition for you or you haven’t been back to the shores of Kennabi for a while, we would like to welcome you!

Full information and online registration now online here

Three “Generations” of Trappers

Three “generations” of Trappers met in the Hub during the 2011 Alumni Reunion Weekend: Ken Wrigglesworth (Trapper in 85 & 86), current Camp Director Kevin Bell (Trapper in 91 & 93) and Jacob Ursulak (Trapper ’11).

Kevin, while draping a lovely skunk pelt across his chest, is explaining how 19th century trappers would fashion bikini tops for their ladies from skunk pelts.

Drop us a line at the Thunderbird ( or add a comment here if you have any tales to tell of your adventures at the HSR Trapper’s Cabin.

Cricket 2011: When bowling is not bowling



By Gord Fleming (84-87)

“Another year, another championship”, said HSRCL Alumni squad leader Gordon Fleming as the clouds rolled in. “And another Thunderbird post-game wrap-up” added his insistent editor from the sidelines. “And stop recycling the same damn story year after year! We call it ‘news’ for a reason!”

The captain thought about this briefly and then turned his attention back to the task at hand – defeating an HSR Staff that was surely hungry for victory after forfeiture of last year’s match (recycling! – ed.).

To the Alumni , victory  was nearly assured as was foretold to them. He looked at his watch as the thunderclaps drew nearer. “The rain and thunder are going to end this one”, silly-mid-off and alternate short-leg Dr. Kissick mused. “All we have to do is score one or more runs than the Staff team has and we’ll win” (dammit, recycling! – ed.).

Dr Jamie Kissick at bat!

An excellent strategy, to be sure. But beyond the simple math of “high score wins”, forces beyond the comprehension of most of the participants were at work.

That morning, four of the Alumni players awoke to a shared vision. Warner, Ian, Gord and Ken (names cunningly encrypted…or are they?) saw a tall man with an axe over his shoulder, the head resting gently against a heavy woolen cap that matched the colour of his leather boots. His greatcoat was wet, pulling his shoulders down, emphasizing his long beard and bushy moustache (now we’re talking… – ed.).

He spoke.

“Je m’appelle Chartrand Richelieu”. Continuing in heavily accented English, he recounted a tale of how he arrived on the shores of the new world and worked his way inland until he found a home not far from where this afternoon’s match would be played. “I ‘ave come to ensure dat justice always be done at the old Mill – ‘eed my words. I will ‘elp you make sure that the championnat stays out of the ‘ands of H.S.R. Staff….”.

All four men awoke abruptly at that moment, each in turn dismissing the apparition as a strange dream. As Ken spread peanut butter and hazelnut compote on a chocolate muffin, Ian laughed and said, “hey, that peanut butter looks just like a moustache and the knife looks like the axe that…” He looked up at that moment to see only the wide eyes of the three other men that shared his dream.

“Chartrand Richelieu” they all pronounced in unison.

They hadn’t heard the name before this morning’s vision, and only sketchy details were available on the online historical record for the area, but what did exist confirmed the strange story of a French immigrant accused of sorcery in his home village, ostracized to the point of having to flee the country. Arriving in Halifax in 1811, he traversed Lower Canada, never staying in one place for very long, as its connection to his home country caused him considerable discomfort. He finally settled in a cabin near present–day Harcourt, mastered the woodland skills of the day, and became a very popular fellow among the townsfolk, who just called him “Chat”.

Some of this popularity was due to his introduction of a game he called “quilles”, a precursor to what is now known as “bowling”.  The townsfolk took to this immediately, as it helped them while away hours that they would otherwise have been wasting on drink and wenches. Soon, every man, woman and child in the town would be participating in organized tournaments.

Several successive victories by a team of former wenches inspired Chat to craft a challenge award, which would symbolize local supremacy in the game that he had brought to the town. “Let all who come ‘ere be knowing, dat le championnat of “bowling” be represent by the trophee dat is in my ‘ands.”

As the four men learned the true history of the man who came to them in an apparition, they began to wonder what it all meant. Why was this spirit of a long passed era speaking to them of justice on a “mill site” and promising them a championship? What was the connection between the approaching storm near the end of the match and this shared vision that the Alumni skipper knew to mean certain victory? Since when does bowling have anything to do with cricket? How will this story escape the complicated narrative corner that it has written itself into?

And so it was that the Shat Richly Memorial Bowling Trophy was hoisted by a foursome of HSR staff, a symbol of a victory sealed months before in an inner-suburban bowling alley west of Toronto. What they did not know was that it was also a symbol of a humiliating defeat suffered centuries earlier, not far from the place that brought them together.

One grey afternoon in 1815, a group of Englishmen, all dressed in white arrived in Harcourt, and found Chartrand Richelieu in the tavern, enjoying a hot tea made from the vegetation available in the surrounding forest.

“We’re looking for a man named Shat Richly”, said the tallest among them.

“Richelieu. Chat Richelieu”, he corrected the man. “You are speaking to ‘im”

“We are given to understand that you are a skilled bowler. We have come to challenge you for your trophy”.

“I’m retired”, replied Chat. “Besides, the Former Wenches are reigning champions, not me”.

The Men in White looked puzzled as the tall one continued. “We have been sent here by men of considerable means to challenge the legendary Shat Richly to a match. The reward to the winner is, we assure you, substantial”.

“Chat Richelieu”, he corrected them once more and with considerably less patience. “’How substantial?” he asked, after a pause.

“Certainly enough to afford proper tea from now on” answered the tall one, turning his nose away from the steaming cup that sat on the table between them. “What do I ‘ave to do?” asked Richelieu, before taking a long sip of the brew that the Men in White were quietly ridiculing.

“Put your best team together and meet us here tomorrow at 1”, replied the tall one as he handed over a map that showed a clearing in the woods some nine miles west. “We’ll take the trophy with us, clean it up and prepare it for a proper presentation, along with the cash reward”.  He then leaned in and continued, “of course, we’ll need you to give us something as a show of good faith”.

Richelieu stared at the table for a few seconds, took another sip of his tea, and reached into the inside pocket of his greatcoat. “It’s all I ‘ave of any worth”, he said as he handed over a folded set of papers. “They’re deeds to several plots of land that I own around the nearby lakes”.  He slid the papers across the table and said, “you ‘ave yourself a match, Mr…..?”

“Stafford. My name in Herbert Stanley Robert Stafford” he said, clasping Richelieu’s outstretched palm.

Richelieu spent the rest of the day rounding up the Former Wenches and a handful of other skilled bowlers, recounted what had just transpired in the tavern, and set up the bowling green to crack off the rust from so many months of idleness. After a few practice rounds, no one in the group believed that any outsider could pose serious threat to their domination of a game that was the calling card of their community.

They played until nightfall, ate heartily, slept and then set out for the clearing early the next morning. When they arrived, they saw a large group of Men in White, running around a field that had two arrays of wooden stakes in the middle.

“Que Diable?” exclaimed Richelieu as he dropped his bowling ball and bag of pins. “What en nom d’enfer is this ‘ere?”

As Stafford approached him, he held his arms out to indicate the entire field behind him and yelled out “this, my good fellow, is Cricket!”

“But I’m a bowler!”

“And you accepted our challenge as such. Now take the field, if you please”.

The rest of the Men in White began to laugh as Chartrand and his mates began to realize that they had been cheated. Knowing that playing was their only option, they gamely walked onto the field without having the foggiest notion of what they were supposed to do as the Men in White ran up the score.

The final humiliation came when Richelieu cast a glance at the table on the sidelines. He saw that the trophy he had sent with the Englishmen was not there. In its place was a cheap molded man affixed to a small silver leaf tossing a bowling ball. “We call it the Shat Richly Memorial Bowling Trophy!” cried one of the Englishmen, barely containing his laughter.

As he realized that these Englishmen had taken his land, humiliated him and probably knew damn well how to pronounce his name, the rage built in him like a ground fire looking for its next hollow stump. “You will pay for this dearly for this, Monsieur H.S.R. Stafford (OH COME ON! – ed.)!

As he raised his clenched fist to the skies, they suddenly darkened and a hard rain began to fall. Thunder could be heard approaching from the Northwest as sheets of lightning flashed insistently overhead. The Men in White scrambled to find shelter under the tallest trees in the wood.

Chartrand Richelieu stood alone in the middle of the field and thought about the day that he was exiled from his village in the French countryside. He began to laugh quietly to himself as the cries of men were once again silenced one by one by the lightning strikes, and the familiar smell of braised flesh filled the air.

He walked to the edge of the field to gather his things. He picked up his axe, placing the handle on his shoulder, the head resting gently against a heavy woolen cap that matched the colour of his leather boots. His greatcoat was wet, pulling his shoulders down, emphasizing his long beard and bushy moustache. He closed his eyes, using his powers to see a day that was centuries away. Four strangely dressed men appeared before him.

He spoke.

“Je m’appelle Chartrand Richelieu. I ‘ave come to ensure dat justice always be done hon le site of the old Mill – ‘eed my words . I will ‘elp you make sure that the championnat stays out of the ‘ands of H.S.R. Staff….”.

How’s that? (WTF. – ed.)

Box Score










Chat Richelieu


Cup of Pine needle tea with a side of plantain weed.

HSR Alumni Weekend Recap

Another summer has come and gone, and for many of us, the Haliburton Scout Reserve Staff Alumni reunion weekend is always a highlight. For two days each year, we can return to the place that we would not have left had we been given the choice, and pretend that normal life hadn’t come along to ruin every summer since.

Although the places and faces are always familiar, each edition of the Alumni Weekend brings something a little different to the experience. For example: babies. If one had stumbled through the Guest Sites on Saturday, one may have noticed a veritable plague of the things. Good on the parents for wanting to share HSR with the youngsters as soon as possible. In a few short years, you may even meet some of them on the KYBO run.

Saturday offered many options to those in attendance. Some rediscovered the trails to favourite out-of-the-way places like Hurst Lake while others went for a “bake” on the H-Dock. Some stuck around the home base to sit by the fire and knock back a couple of wieners.

After the traditional staff-alumni steak banquet, the HSRSAA Bursary Award was presented (see separate entry for more), and Alumni and their families were invited to jump on a barge for an evening lake run. The sunset provided a spectacular backdrop, bringing back fond memories of the most magical summer evenings of our youth (without the horseplay, shenanigans, tomfoolery and resulting injuries).

Sunset at HSR Summer 2011

This brace of fresh air prepared us for an evening in the Hub and Cub Pub, where traditional pub fare was served up along with the sweet sounds of the open mic. Hosted as always by the multi-talented Warner Clarke, Alumni and Staff both provided and enjoyed a range of musical styles, running from folk to hip-hop to atonal experimental improvisations and back.

Sunday was a typical one for the Alumni Weekend: Sugar-fuelled dreams about a French woodsman/sorcerer, the Annual General Meeting, yet another Cricket victory, customary torrential downpour, high tea and a long drive home from the place we never would have left had we been given the choice.

2010 Cricket Match

by Gord Fleming (84-88) – Staff Alumni Cricket Team Coach

HALIBURTON – The regrettable list of cancelled championships that already includes the WWI-Era Grey Cups, the 1919 Stanley Cup, and the 1994 World Series has a new entry today. The 2010 Haliburton Scout Reserve Cricket League championship was scuppered immediately prior to the scheduled opening bowl, owing to a combination of factors, chief among which were immediately opening bowels.

As the Alumni team members arrived at their pre-season training camp on Kennabi’s North shore, they were informed that the Staff team, their most bitter – and only – rivals, had been decimated by an outbreak of what was presumed to be Norwalk-like virus. A chill descended upon the cocksure and jovial mood of the undefeated Alumni squad, as each was in turn ordered by team physician and silly-mid-off Jamie Kissick to refrain from licking staff for the time being.

As the first day of training camp progressed despite the uncertainty, the intensity of the rivalry was underscored as rumours began to circulate that Justin Way, the long, long, long serving captain of the Staff side had devised a way of using the outbreak to his advantage. It was reported that he had begun offering undefined incentives to his stricken players to “say hello in really, really friendly ways” to the healthy Alumni in a nefarious plot to weaken them.

I’m not going to comment on unfounded rumours” said Alumni captain Gordon Fleming. “They seem a little far-fetched. I mean, incentives? Why would they need incentives? Have you seen us? We’re like the team your team could smell like”. He then put his hands on his towel-draped hips and exclaimed cryptically, “I’m in a tent!

Later that evening, league commissioner Kevin Bell announced the match was expected to go on as scheduled. “We are looking forward to the Staff side’s full recovery in time for Sunday’s match. We know they are doing everything they can to get their strength back, and the league is doing its part by reminding them of the heavy fines they face for failure to show”.

Asked to comment on the possibility that such fines might push ill players onto the field – giving the Alumni a competitive advantage – Fleming said “we like winning way better than losing, but we want to do it because we score lots of runs, not because the other team has them”.

The grueling Alumni training regime therefore continued as planned. “We’re focusing on diet and mental toughness this year” said head trainer Grant LaFontaine, as he combined chocolate, marshmallow and graham cracker to construct the signature sandwich of the Alumni side. “The mental toughness is built up through sharing and meditation, in a circle of unity around the campfire, which represents the flickering spirit in all of us that feeds the burning red-hot coals of desire for victory” he added, as players behind him appeared to be exercising their eyes by rolling them.

The diet part is partly Karma-based, through offerings of food to our opponents. For example, we started an oyster bed in the creek outside the Hurst gates earlier this year, harvested the first batch a few days ago, let them warm up in the sun for a couple of hours and fed them to the Staff at snack. We had to be a little creative because we feared they might not accept our heartfelt gift without some suspicion. So, we replaced the creamy centres in the Oreos with them. Karma favours good deeds done anonymously”, he explained, as Fleming frantically mimed slashing motions across his throat in an apparent attempt to prevent the trainer from revealing too much about the Alumni strategy.


Grant Lafontaine tending to his "oyster farm"

Nervously laughing, Fleming pushed the trainer aside and took over. “What Laffie is trying to say is that we have an interest in keeping our competition strong so that they bring out the best in us. We brought them a traditional offering of yummy delicious nutritious shellfish to put the hot bubbly fire of competitiveness in their bellies. Yeah. That’s good. Print that.”


Asked if the Alumni shared in the feast, each player stared straight ahead and gave the same answer: “No. We’re all allergic. Yes, all of us. I know, weird coincidence, right?” This was in most cases followed by a wink or a fist bump.

As dawn broke on the morning of the 2010 HSRCL Final, the skies brought steady rains as Alumni player representative Jeff Lake brought news that the outbreak had taken a turn for the worse and the commissioner reluctantly declared that for the first time in its 28-year history, there would be no championship match.

As a spontaneous tribute to their stricken rivals, the Alumni players donned their whites and took their positions on the Mill Site Field for a moment of silence, a touching display of sportsmanship for which the Alumni were well – rewarded with a glorious victory by forfeit.

I know the Staff will be delighted that we were able to take to the field not just to honour them, but to make sure that a champion would still be crowned in 2010”, said Fleming. “It wasn’t quite the same, but a win is a win and we had a gastroen-terrific weekend!

2009 Reunion Weekend

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night ….. and Late Morning

Alumni Weekend was like a lot of weekends during the summer of 2009. Weather forecasts were largely tentative—promising cooler than normal temperatures and the likelihood of precipitation. Amongst HSRSA members was a single thought: “Cool—no campfire ban!”

Early arrivals included Warner Clarke (66-70) Beth (we got here early for a flat spot for Howard*) Katrina Angel (89- 90),Tim Collier (96-99) and Theresa, soon joined by Gord Fleming (84-88), Sarah and Heather Gillies (88-89). Tim, Theresa, Katrina, Warner & Beth managed a guest site gourmet meal of tandoori chicken while Gord and Sarah took off for an evening paddle.

Various alumni members arrived and set up camp. Some wandered down to Smokey Hollow to see the end of the week camp fire. Others remained at the guest site to have a “beginning of the weekend” campfire.

Chris Perez (00-03) arrived with home made marshmallows. The late evening involved some field testing of the toast-ability of Chris’ homemade marshmallows vs the commercial varieties and the various applications of both in the construction of Belgian chocolate ’smores.

A period of time lapsed between making ’smores and rising for breakfast. Most devoted this period to sleep. Breakfast included bottomless coffee, juices, seasonal fruit, various baked goods including Costco Mega-Muffins, spreads, and more marshmallows.

With the AGM moved to Sunday, many alumni and families took the opportunity to tour the camp, dodging incoming and outgoing scout groups. One of the outgoing scout groups dislodged Mark Daly (73-78), who committed (with some urging from fellow alumni) to return to join alumni weekend once he had gone to his cottage to shower. 

At some point, perhaps midday, breakfast merged with lunch while the sun continued to make intermittent appearances. Tim & Theresa became the masters of the BBQ and the guest site inhabitants settled into a lunch of ’dogs & ’slaw.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in camp, Ken Wrigglesworth (81-82, 85-86)reprised his “Trapper Ken” persona at the Trappers Cabin and gave an intense Trapper Ken kind of lesson to the folks who had ventured to that end of the camp with him. Photographic evidence posted weeks later on Picassa indicated that no appendages were lost during the demonstrations, although the transformation of coach Gord into a Slavic warrior looked pretty intense.

Alumni joined the camp staff at the hub for a steak supper on Saturday evening. Alumni in attendance had the opportunity to introduce themselves to the camp staff, and tell what the work they had done at camp.

The presentation of Bursaries happened after supper in the hub followed by the Hub & Cub later in the evening.

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2009 Cricket Match

With a scandal-plagued 2008 season all but forgotten, the HSRCL resumed operations in 2009 with the kind of renewed hope and excitement that only a single-game-winner-take-all season can produce.

Is this not the most exciting sports league on Earth?” asked eccentric league commissioner Kevin Bell rhetorically. “Yes, it is not!” he replied, probably not realizing that it wasn’t really the answer he was looking for.

What happened in 2008 will stay in 2008” he continued with a wink. “It’s time to restore this great league to its rightful glory, and watch these two great rivals play a match that is certain to entertain and excite as only HSRCL cricket can!

Heavy Sunday Rains threatened to scuttle the season altogether, with the Alumni Players’ Union demanding assurances that the field would be safe. “We’re, like, ten times older than our opponents as it is” said Alumni Captain and Player Rep Gordon Fleming. “If we fall, we may never get up again. Half of us already have different hips than the ones we were born with. I have to put my team’s safety first.”

The field was deemed acceptable for play mere moments from the scheduled first bowl, and the squads finally took their positions on the field. Stepping into competition for the first time in over a year is hard on any athlete, so no one was expecting the entertainment and excitement to start right away. Long time fans were not expecting it to start at all, but they, as always, kept their thoughts private.

The Alumni team entered the match as heavy underdogs. This is a team of veterans whose best days are long, long, long behind them, and none of them was expected to add much more to their individual lists of accomplishments. If this wasn’t enough, the team continued to have hard luck at the crucial position of bowler, with injuries and holdouts constantly draining the pool. Facing a staff team with a very deep bench, the odds were not in their favour.

As with any sporting event however, there are always intangibles that prevent anything from being a sure thing. Premier race car drivers crash, ace goaltenders have off-nights, star quarterbacks throw ill-timed interceptions. In today’s HSRCL Final, it would be the hard sucking sound coming from the bats of both teams.

At the end of the first innings, the score was 11-8 in favour of the Staff. This should not be mistaken for an indication of a tight contest with outstanding defensive displays or Halladay-like bowling. The story of this match was the bats, and the bats were as cold as a shaved Yak.

This continued through the second and final innings, with no player making any sort of case for match MVP. The match was played in record time and the score was a record low for both teams Alumni – 43, Staff -35. It would be nice to report that the Alumni Team staged a dramatic come-from-behind win, but there was no drama here. “Our strategy was simple – score more runs than the other team, and we did that today” said Fleming. “If anyone asks you about the fundamentals of the game, those are them”.

So, indeed, mothers of losers everywhere:  it’s whether you win or lose, not how you play the game.

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2008 Reunion Weekend

By Warner Clarke (66-70)

Well the good news was that, for the first time in several years, this was an alumni weekend without a local fire ban. The alumni weekend had a forecast not unlike most 2008 summer weekends—cool with a significant chance of rain.

Beth & I arrived in late afternoon in order to score a rare flat parking spot for my RV and discovered a chilled Katrina Angel (89-90) who had already arrived and set up tents and a reception area. We set up a screened tent and started a fire to begin to dry out firewood. Over the course of the afternoon and evening, many other alumni and family members drifted in, set up and greeted each other.

Saturday morning dawned damply. Tim Collier (96-99) arrived with a campsite sized free-standing canopy. Collectively thumbing our noses at the rain gods, a do-it-yourself breakfast was assembled under the nylon sky. Intermittent periods of rainlessness occurred over the morning and encouraged some members to proceed with the plans of a luncheon BBQ followed by an AGM at Twister site. The luncheon hour arrived with another downpour so lunch was held back at the guest site under the nylon sky and the AGM was re-routed to the hub.

Saturday night saw the Hub & Cub is a social activity linking Alumni members attending the Alumni weekend with current staff members through the venue of a Saturday evening special snack and open mic. This year’s Alumni “House Band”  included Warner Clarke (66-70) and Tim Collier (96-99) with Beth Hoen on bass. Mark Daly (73-78) also contributed some tunes. Some really good music was provided by current staff members.

Special thanks to Heather Gillies (88-89)Katrina Angel (89-90), Katherin Green (89), and Sarah Nunes among others who worked their magic in the kitchen and “bar”.

Sunday morning featured a kick off brunch assembled in Warner’s RV and served in the common area of the guest site. The rain had stopped and threatened to stay away for the entire day. More alumni drifted into camp to answer the call of the crack of a cricket bat. (See 2008 Cricket Match posting.)

After the cricket match, many Alumni members returned to the Hub for High Tea, while others said their farewells at the Cricket Pitch.

Once again, the hospitality and welcoming of the current staff was very much appreciated. We look forward to seeing more of you during the “hoped to be drier” summer of 2009.

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2008 Cricket Match

Alumni Team fails to make it 4 in a row – Plans to focus on rebuilding for 2009

Highly anticipated as always by its long-time followers, the 2008 HSR Cricket League season was about to begin, with its exciting single-game format, where all two teams make it to the final and a champion gets bragging rights for nearly an entire year.

This has been an excellent strategy to build up the kind of rivalry that keeps the fans coming back” said league commissioner Kevin Bell (89-93, 05-08). “We don’t charge admission, so we have to find other ways to generate income for the league and its teams. Nothing’s worked yet, but by golly, if we wish hard enough, the money will come!

As always, the HSRCL pulled out all the stops to make sure that 2008 would be its best season ever, with plans to make eventual inroads to untapped markets that up until now have shown little interest in this brutal, fast paced and furiously exciting sport. “We think that this is a new beginning for the HSRCL” said Bell. “We’re going to be bigger than the NFL within two years”.

Despite the hopeful tone of the commissioner (and perhaps because of the obvious absence of any kind of business strategy or sense of reality whatsoever), the real story was the speculation that if the Staff team had posted a third consecutive losing season that its board of directors was going to consider folding or relocating the franchise. Either decision would have been a disaster for the two-team league.

We came in to win, as always”, said long-time Alumni captain Gordon Fleming (84-88) when asked to comment on the future of the league. “I don’t pay much mind to the suits in the Admin office. We mind our own business. Our business is winning matches.

Clearly lacking a business strategy of its own, the Alumni team played its worst match ever, failing to capitalize on the weakest offensive numbers yet seen during the HSRCL’s modern era, on the losing end of a score that is too embarrassing to print (ed. Note – you just don’t remember!). Bats for both squads were deafening in their silence, leading to speculation that the clearly superior Alumni team’s performance was directly related to the rumours of the league’s potential demise.

That’s a bunch of codswollope”, said returning Alumni veteran and resident anglophile Jamie Kissick (74-76, 88-98) following the game, as he held a large bag with a dollar sign on it and a note that read “to the Alumni team from the Staff, with many thanks”.  “We tried as hard as we ever do. Sometimes the effort just doesn’t pay off.” He refused further comment and threw the bag of money into his trunk, nearly slamming Commissioner Bell’s fingers in the process.

Maybe we were a bit complacent after feeding the Staff team its lunch in five of the last six final” said a clearly preoccupied team manager Gord Fleming, holding a similar bag. “We just couldn’t pull it together today. We know this is a great team on paper, but we don’t play on paper. We play on grass.

Star bowlers Scott Turner (98-00) and John McVeigh (98-02) commented briefly on the match, curiously without bags of cash like those that were distributed to the rest of their team. Turner, with a bag over his head, could not be clearly heard, but the words “disgusted to be associated” were clear before he trailed off again and left the field.

McVeigh, when asked about the significance of his traditional First Nation outfit, replied cryptically that he wanted to honour his ancestral origins in the Alaskan Bowledmyassoffand Nevertookabribe tribes.

We may never know what he meant by that, but it does appear that the narrow Staff victory will ensure the survival of the HSRCL into the foreseeable future. In that sense, everyone’s a winner.

See also 2008 Reunion Weekend posting.

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