PL1 v Willetton

UWA 6 v Willetton 7

22/01/12 - Historically the term suffragette was a derogatory one, coined to diminish the cause of those campaigning for equal social and political rights for women in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. These campaigns were met with at most lip service, despite women being jailed, hunger-striking and dying, until the catalyst that was World War I. With the world in upheaval and the manpower shortages of the Western Front leading to even greater shortages at home, women were pressed in ever greater numbers into the industrial and farming workforce. It was a tipping point and when in 1918 soldiers of all ranks and classes were given the vote, so were an initially limited franchise of women.

The University Baseball Club was an inaugural member of the WA Women’s Baseball League. Despite the wealth of talent on display and the quality of the baseball played that year, the team lasted but one year and it would be fifteen years before a new all-female team was put in the field. In the intervening years an occasional female presence graced the male teams, but only when a team was short-handed and on the road, and usually with varying degrees of success. Rarely, if ever, would they have earned their place on merit.

The Club’s World War I moment came on Sunday past. Besieged at home by Kalamunda and Willetton and short-handed across all divisions, the Club had no choice but to turn to its’ women’s team to ensure it at least had a chance of being competitive across all grades. The day began with the remarkable tale of a husband pitching to his wife (a record that is unlikely to be achieved elsewhere again), however this tale concerns a young woman who stepped up one level further from even greater obscurity.

Rose Burnfield, nominated by acclamation by her team-mates and coach stood in at left field and batted at eight in a PR1 team desperate to regain some credibility after two disappointing fade-outs against Kelmscott. Short, blonde and impossibly young and cheerful, she did not, at least initially, inspire fear in the hearts of the visitors from the south.

Chris Pascoe took the start and roamed around the mound all day as if he owned it. Willetton may have threatened early, but both pitchers goose-egged until the bottom of the second. With Pascoe at second and the veteran Shaun Major at first, Burnfield stepped up for her first at-bat. Willetton displayed Asquith-like arrogance and immediately closed in for the bunt. As competitive as she would be all day, Rose battled her way through the count before coming up with a hard grounder to the right side. She was retired, but not before moving her runners across to second and third. Both subsequently scored.

University added another run in the third before the fielding wobbles struck them once again in the fourth. Burnfield may not have not been tall enough to spear a line drive but the infield started to lose their way and were unable to properly support the edgy Pascoe on the hill. The home team’s batters adjusted better in the fifth inning, with a sacrifice bunt from the rejuvenated Nathan Rogerson and a sacrifice fly from Pascoe delivering two runs and the lead. Errors proved costly in the last, with University unable to cling to their lead. Burnfield lead off the last against Willetton’s hard-throwing reliever with a refusal to be intimidated, a big hack at the first high fastball underlining her intentions. As she had done all day, she ripped a hard groundball that lacked enough eyes to get out of the infield. Clint Leighton eventually reached first with two out and Harry-sorry-Jacques Martin was able to score him courtesy of a tough infield error. It was not enough, however, with University conceding the game by a single run.

Paul McCartney may have thought the Major was a lady suffragette, but Shakespeare was right when he had Juliette say "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.". Like the previous 15 years, any woman could have stood in to make up the numbers on Sunday. Only a player with heart and skill, and an irrepressible smile, could have broken that suffragette barrier – perhaps even providing the shape of things to come.

Box Score

PL1 v Kelmscott

UWA 2 v Kelmscott 10

15/01/12 - The winter of 1777 was one of the hardest in living memory. The Continental Army, defeated at Germantown by the British Army under Lord Howe, had been forced to surrender the colonial prize of Philadelphia and its commander, the man who would live to be the inaugural President of the fledgling Republic, was desperate for defensible winter quarters that would enable some control to be maintained over the interior of Pennsylvania. Valley Forge, nestled between the high ground of Mount Joy and Mount Misery was a natural choice and 12,000 hungry, ill-equipped and weary men staggered into the dubious shelter.

It snowed but a little, however the fluctuations of rain and freezing meant disease continued to weaken Washington's force. Food supplies were far from regular despite the sterling work of the newly appointed Quartermaster General Nathaniel Greene and men and horses starved throughout the winter.

Like the Continental Army, the University PR1 suffered before and at the end of it's mid-season break, bookending with two defeats to Kelmscott. Despite manful toiling on the hill by the impossibly young Jurgen Hanekom, the team was outmanoeuvred in both games and found wanting offensively and defensively. The men in green showed courage at times, with leadership in the batting box shown by Alex Pellerano and Clint Leighton. However defensive mistakes scattered liberally across the diamond meant the team continued to haemorrhage runs throughout the game. Individually and collectively the team lacked a plan and in the end, like Washington before them, they were forced to concede their home field to the enemy.

Valley Forge, despite its privations, gave the Continently Army the opportunity to upgrade their military efficiency, morale, and discipline. The army had been handicapped in battle because unit training was administered from a variety of field manuals, making coordinated battle movements awkward and difficult, and although they were trained, it was far from uniform. The University team may lack a skilled Prussian drill master such as Baron Friedrich von Stuben to tirelessly drill the soldiers, but it is hoped they can also seize this opportunity to regroup and focus on the battles ahead.

Box Score

PL1 v Willetton

UWA 16 v Willetton 4

06/11/11 - On Tuesday 4 May 1982 the HMS Sheffield, deep in the South Atlantic, was hit by an Argentinian Exocet missile. The news of that incident, coming hard on the heels of the sinking of the Argentinian cruiser General Belgrano two days earlier, marked the end of the diplomatic war over the Falkland Islands and the beginning of the shooting war.

In the beginning it seemed a horribly mismatched affair. Britain, although once the mightiest naval power in the world, may have been a post-colonial shadow of her former self but she was a world power nevertheless. The junta-ruled Argentina and the insignificant islands they had seized were a very long way away from Britain’s shores and there were serious doubts whether the political will or the military wherewithal existed to take them back again.

And so it was with University making the long trek south to Willetton. The once dominant club in Provincial Reserves 1 had been waning for several years, and after three listless performances, in only one of which it was lucky enough to steal a win, like early Thatcherite Britain its will and its wherewithal were clearly questionable. Like Admiral Woodward’s scratch taskforce, the team was put together with more slap than dash and, like the Operation Corporate taskforce, blind confidence and enthusiasm were used to paper over the cracks.

Jurgen Hanekom was slated for his debut start; former star Clint Leighton was returning undrilled from an American holiday, Jacques Martin was a late addition to the infield for the first time this season, Ryan Eldred was traditionally late, and Chris Pascoe, Hanekom’s scheduled relief, was late even by Eldred’s standards.

Like Woodward’s fleet, University began brightly with check swing hits to Eldred and Martin and 4 ugly but effective runs in the first innings. The ugliness increased with Nathan Rogerson being picked off at second to end the innings. The Willetton lead-off crushed one of Hanekom’s first offerings of the day, only for Leighton to slip out of Nevada-time to spear the line drive. Runners were put on but the defence held and the young starter dug himself out of trouble early, much like the survival of the troop ships and their defenders in bomb alley on San Carlos Water. But for a little more luck or skill on the side of the Argentine Air Force and the story could have been much different. University added two runs on the second and should have had more.

Like 2 Para’s assault on Goose Green, the men in green were cavalier in their approach to a dug-in and prepared enemy and paid an extraordinarily light price for overextending themselves. Once more Willetton were their own worst enemy in gifting University baserunners at opportune times.

With Hanekom collect his second hit in his own defence and Shaun Major once again using a double to prove he lacks the strength to clear the fence, Willetton made a desperately needed pitching that was unlikely to do anything to change the outcome of the game.

Seemingly unreachably ahead, it then became a grind. The Royal Marines yomped their way across East Falkland and 3 Para were air-ferried across to join them. The Argentines fell back without giving battle, save for Fitzroy, and it seemed just a matter of time before Port Stanley fell and the war was over. The sting in the tail was in the mountains, Mounts Longdon, Harriet and Tumbledown and Wireless Ridge, with unexpected and bloody fighting as the pride of Argentina fought for honour rather than a change of result. So it was with University cruising for a one-hit shut-out victory, one small error with two out ended the shut-out and the next pitch delivered a three run home-run to restore some measure of pride to the home team.

It was still a win, like the Falklands War a hard-fought one that could so easily have gone differently. Like Max Hastings before me, I was privileged to be able to walk into Port Stanley before the end and welcome the victors who, whole not perfect , achieved what had set out to do.

Box Score

PL1 v Carine Cats

UWA 3 v Carine Cats 12

23/10/11 - INT. CARINE OPEN SPACE - MAIN DIAMOND PRESS BOX

Box Score

PL1 v Kelmscott

UWA 9 v Kelmscott 4

The first hot Sunday of the season struck a jarring, discordant note with the men from UWA travelling to Balcatta to take on last week’s foes, Kelmscott. Playing at a third party’s ground always generates a little finals feeling, although this was out of synch with the season – much like 1980’s Australian Indie Music, the game was intriguing and interesting but not where it should have been.

16/10/11 - Kelmscott pulled out A Different Man, with their windmilling reliever from last week taking the mound against the returning veteran Andy McDonough. It was not A Trick Of The Light, this was a very different game than its predecessor with the “home” team’s greatest risk that last week’s Alchemy’s Dead. While UWA’s defence had tightened up considerably and the team were ready to play from the first pitch, it was no longer Bye Bye Pride with Kelmscott’s bats ready to fire and unwilling to give up throughout the game. The Dogs brought their Electric Lash, manufacturing a run in the first and threatening to add more. They proved, however, to have a Field Of Glass with a sacrifice fly letting in two runs courtesy of an errant throw, putting UWA back in the lead.

Both teams brought similar match-ups to the previous week, however the key new addition for UWA was debutante New Zealand born rightfielder Dean O’Connell. Threatening to be a Nervous Kid, he hit the ball hard but without luck all day and took several fleet-footed catches in the deep. The bottom half of the UWA batting order, with the exception of The Unguarded Moment of Jurgen Hanekom, struggled to get on board. Far from becoming Disenchanted, they maintained their Head Full Of Steam and supported their pitcher with key plays through the Lonely Stretch of the middle innings. Hanekom and shortstop Ryan Eldred turned and stylish and crucial doubleplay and the diving Save What You Can attitude of the UWA first baseman turned a certain double into an inning ending out.

The boys in blue outhit the men in green 11-5, but it was a Beautiful Waste, with McDonough surrendering few free passes and keeping the hitters off balance and unable to string together many consecutive solid at-bats. Kelmscott were Unkind & Unwise consistently unable to prevent the UWA top order from getting on base, allowing the green team’s clean-up hitter to enter the Bower Of Bliss with 4 sacrifice flies.

UWA were keen to play and, unable to Tear It All Away, maintained their pressure through to the end adding a further run in the 8th inning, while Kelmscott, their eyes on the Bright Lights Big City were simply looking for Mercy before the umpire had ended the final inning.

In the end Kelmscott were left asking Was There Anything I Could Do?, while it was Raining Pleasure for University as they took their Place In The Sun and set themselves up for a Hell Of A Summer.

* with apologies to The Triffids, The Church, The Saints, The Violent Femmes, The Go-Betweens & The Clouds

Box Score

PL1 v Kelmscott

UWA 9 v Kelmscott 4

09/10/11 - Petrol caught fire on Mount Panorama. Unlike the PR1 game to open the 2011/12 season, this unfolded quickly. Backing into a wall on a bend, petrol quickly spilled onto the track and brewed up, trapping the driver until the quick actions of the ground crew doused the flames, suspended the race and dragged the driver to safety.

This event and its resolution had some similarities to the first game of the season, beyond the obvious links of Vice President Rogerson setting fire to the club barbecue at Thursday night training, prompting the purchase of a replacement over the defeated body of the World's Second Greatest Treasurer, Ryan Eldred, and unquestionably boganite look and feel of the Kelmscott opposition.

Like the Bathurst fire, the game began quickly, with the fast-working Andy McDonough sending down the first pitch before most of his field realised the game had actually begun. The surprise of the lead-off hitter swinging was enough to see the ball scoot by short-stop Eldred before he could really react. Like the Russians in the last pool match against the Wallabies, University seemed surprised at the speed and intensity of the game and the willingness and passion of the Kelmscott players. A couple of scratchy hits and four defensive errors later, and the visitors went into the bottom part of the opening frame with a 3-0 lead.

By this time UWA were ready to play and ready to shrug off the ghosts of last season. Eldred atoned with a lead-off single and steal, and Josh Mikus did what he does best and drove in his club's first run. From there, like the Springboks and Wallabies it became a game of gritty defence and, in some cases, solid tackling. Jeremy Faux ranged well in right field pulling in a number of catches throughout the day, and the infield became steady under fire, with Jurgen Hanekom coolly making a number of plays, Mikus using his bicep to juggle a ball across the field and Eldred recovering his range and giving the firstbaseman an opportunity to muscle it up with a baserunner. The latter's double-play throw to third was nothing short of remarkable.

The slow burning embers of University's bats eventually caught hold, starting up once again through the footspeed of Eldred and consistency of Mikus. Clutch hits from Major, Rogerson and the ever-reliable Ewers broke Kelmscott's back, banishing their starter from the mound but not before he had surrendered the lead. The windmilling reliever held University briefly, but with fresh bats from the bench lining up to join in the gentle haemorrhaging of runs the Umpire needed far too little persuasion to put the men in blue out of their misery, unfortunately taking President Stivey with them, gifting the green machine a 10-3 opening day win.

Box Score

PL1 v Rockingham

UWA 3 v Rockingham 13

06/03/11 - When I made my debut for the University Baseball Club Bob Hawke lived in the Lodge, Margaret Thatcher at 10 Downing Street and George Bush Senior in the White House; the Berlin Wall still stood and Nelson Mandela was still locked on Robben Island; the Russians had just finished their withdrawal from Afghanistan and Chinese students had just been confronted by tanks in Tiananmen Square; Homosexuality had just been legalised in Western Australia and Tim Berners-Lee was beginning to publicly kick around the idea of the World Wide Web; Rain Man had just won Best Picture but Daniel Radcliffe was a little over a week away from being born; Seinfeld, the show about nothing, had premiered five days earlier but the Simpsons was some five months from doing the same; and The Look by Roxette was number one on the Australian Top 40.

My league debut (as opposed to that in Intervarsity in July 1989) was ironically also against Rockingham. As a freshly minted 18 year old, I played left field in the old Minor A and was a bewildered part of narrow victory. The intimidating Larry Mulder was on hill, throwing to his brother Hal. A fellow young IV debutante, Chris Wade played first, with Mike Shanahan (back before he became Mick The Bum) at second and pair of slick-handed Japanese lads with unpronounceable names on the left side of the infield. Mike’s older brother Paul, who won the batting title that year despite disappearing to Berlin in time to see The Wall fall, played centre with the original white-line fever of Paul Wilkins in right. We might have won, but I took the collar with three strikeouts and a nervously dropped catch. I played with Chris Brown, John Phillips and a host of other club legends and life members in B grade (and that’s where the continued use of that term comes from) the following week.

In the intervening years I spent time on the diamond at almost all levels (the majority in A and B grades) playing with more than a third of all the men and women who have ever donned the green, gold, blue and white for this baseball club. From club legends, to life members and on to those better at social than on-field pursuits, I have more memories, shared moments of glory and heartache, and above all laughs with them all than any person could dare hope for. I slogged it out in the wilderness years, played in so many quality teams that caught the Uniwobbles in finals, caught the final out in the club’s first grand final win in 15 seasons, bled on the diamond and been carried off in an ambulance, been on the field and the bench for pennant wins in our glory years, won the odd batting title, and grown older and wiser (but fortunately more flexible as I grew even slower) as the years have passed. Along the way, there have been great games and ones we would all rather forget, there have been days when my bat couldn’t miss and we still lost as well as days where I was a cardboard cut-out but we still won handsomely. Sunday’s game against Rockingham perhaps captures all of those things in one microcosm. At times we were brilliant and at times groaningly terrible; there were moments of offensive brilliance as well as at-bats of mediocrity; there were innings where we were unbeatable and others where we could have been beaten with a rolled up newspaper; and irrespective of the result beers and laughs and camaraderie awaited us all on the hill afterwards.

In the end, though, all I did was keep turning up week after week; not really anything special. Each of the people that I got the privilege of playing with, drinking with, lunching with and hanging out with are the reason that I kept coming back, and each of you are the reason why this club is so special to me after all of these years. The bat that you all signed will become one of my most prized possessions for the rest of my life because of that.

Nearly 22 years later, we lost to Rockingham 13-3. To prove that nothing really has changed since 1989, I went hitless again (albeit with only one strikeout this time) and Aung San Suu Kyi remains in house arrest (something she first entered 10 days after my IV debut for the University Baseball Club).

Box Score

PL1 v Carine

UWA 4 v Carine 6

27/02/11 - The heat of the day may have got Kate Pierson in a haze, but the lazy days of summer were definitely not here; so she suggested we shook it until the butter melts. On the eve of Battle of Britain, Winston Churchill famously had nothing left to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat. Sunday’s return to Carine by the University PR1 team had all of that but also a little too much of Pierson’s haze. There was an eagerness to do battle once more, the previous surprise victory and the ensuing anonymous comments on the blogs fresh in most memories. Churchill recognised it as an ordeal of the most grievous kind, but he took up his task with buoyancy and hope and in the sure feeling that our cause will not be suffered to fail among men.

I stand with the original leader of the Rough Riders when he said that ”It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” That and the wrong kind of Dry County were the story of the game in the mid-North of the city.

Ryan Eldred singled to begin the game, and Matt Don and Michael Smith combined to give us a two run lead going into the bottom of the first. Two strike outs to Dave Stivey and a predictable but well-executed pick-off meant we achieved our initial goal of winning the first inning. Carine came out harder in the second and wrinkled back three runs while our scoring stalled. Eldred, Don and Smith combined once again to add another brace of runs but it was then that the Churchillian blood and sweat began to take its toll. Jacques Martin twinged a hamstring and bowed out of the game gracefully. Another Mr President, Mostyn McNeil, came onto the field and was blocked in the process of being caught stealing. Other players got on and made promising starts, but each time we threatened to tear the game from Carine’s grasp, the heat and the haze got to us and mental errors proved to be our undoing, mostly running bases. Carine, to their credit, manufactured an additional run to add to their later lead taking the game 6-4. And yet there was a palpable sense that the men in green had not been outplayed rather caught short in the conditions at the wrong time.

Woodrow Wilson suggested “We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter's evening. Some of us let these great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them; nurse them through bad days till they bring them to the sunshine and light which comes always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true.” And perhaps that is how best to look at the lame duck period of a season, and, to paraphrase Van Morrison, games such as this – the foundation and the hope for the seasons to come.

Yogi Berra famously said “it ain’t the heat, it’s the humility”. He was wrong, on days such as this it is both.

Box Score

PL1 v Willetton

UWA 7 v Willetton 6

24/02/11 - ”The one constant through all of the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game... it’s a piece of our past. It reminds us all of what was good. And that could be good again. People will come. People will most definitely come.”

And they did, in drabs and drabs. Family and friends, the idle and the curious, they came to a ballpark raised out of the swampy edge of a railway line long after the ashes of Parry Field were little more than an isolated memory for veterans. In the early day days of this park there was a mural painted on the left-field wall; 8 men in the black and white pinstripes of Chicago fading into an endless field of corn. So there was a certain synchronicity that only 8 of the starters and regulars were ready when warm-ups began. And yet there was a sense of excitement and occasion to the evening , a feeling that even with the season being effectively over this was what the players had been looking forward to all year, a whisper in the sticky air that anything was possible even a hero from the depths of a cornfield.

We looked polished in our pre-game warm-ups. Despite, or perhaps because of, two players being out of position, we were solid and careful with a field we were unfamiliar with. This could not survive the emotion and intensity that the occasion brought upon so many of the players. The batters generally struggled with the off-speed pitching, and the umpire’s extremely tight and then suddenly extremely expansive strike zone proved a much greater challenge, so both offensively and defensively and we were unable to shake off Willetton as we had hoped. Throws went astray uncharacteristically and heat blurred the edges of the memory of the leadership group manufacturing imaginary runs to go with those we begrudgingly gifted Willetton.

Entering the last innings with the scores tied. Clint Leighton was hit and then stole second with two out. The pressure of the play proved too much for their field and two overthrows on a big diamond handed Clint the go-head run. Despite the unflappable hardworking Chris Pascoe on the mound, chances to take outs came and went in the bottom of the last. With a runner on second and one out, a sharp single to right brought our own Archibald “Moonlight” Graham, Alex Pellerano into the game. One game and zero at-bats but a steady under fire approach to the play of the night, a centimetre perfect throw to the cut-off man gave the Rock of Matt Don time to scoop the second errant throw and meet the oncoming runner for the tag-out at the plate. Pascoe struck the next hitter out swinging and the game was University’s; although it would be some time later before they knew it.

... Ray and Mann emerge into the sunlight and walk down the aisle toward the field. The grass is so green you can almost smell it. Looking around the ballpark, they see only twenty or thirty die-hard fans in the stands for batting practice; a half-dozen players are grouped around the batting cage as one player hits to several others in the field. “God this place is so beautiful,” said Ray. Sitting in the stands drinking beer afterwards, I couldn’t agree more.

Box Score

PL1 v Balcatta

UWA 2 v Balcatta 8

20/02/11 - Just three players remained on Sunday from the starting nine that took the field so confidently two weeks earlier against Curtin and had their hearts so cruelly broken on the sand In The Pines. James Freud would have recognised them as the voice left from drinking, the radical barrister John Cooke, the man who prosecuted King Charles I and who became known as the Chief of The Regicides, would have recognised them as the Rump, the remnant of the Long Parliament from the time of Pride’s Purge to Cromwell’s dissolution. With their finals campaign over and the prospect of a long off-season before them without the guilty pleasures or remembrances of a post-season, they were very much the Opposition; Arthur Caldwell’s men, battered and broken by Menzies and split from within over the long shadow of Communism, doomed to stare longingly at the Treasury Benches for decades between the death of the Chifley and the rise of Whitlam.

As such they could perhaps be forgiven for going through the motions. Oppositions are just that, the party without the power, the one more desperate to capture oxygen in the media but so often lacking the skill, strength or charisma to make much of what little they do get. And yet the University PR1 baseball team was not the contemporary State Labor Party, toothless and in the face of a government with very little front-bench talent always more focussed on tearing itself apart and making itself the story rather than the failings of the government. Nor yet was it the contemporary Federal Liberal Party, full of energy, venom and smarts in varying and often unequal doses but with no coherency on bringing itself to a government that it is seriously only one faltering heartbeat away from. Instead, this really was the party of the true believers, the men who survived the fractiousness of Doc Evatt, who clung to Caldwell’s steady hand at the rudder and waited for the winds of political change to blow. Not above honest toil, courage in the face of adversity, a willingness to stake what they believed in even when the odds of victory seemed beyond them yet again, they took the field against Balcatta once more.

Like so many post-election Opposition parties, they knew there was unlikely to be a fairytale victory and yet they still dug in. Dave Stivey assumed the mound once again and blanked the auld enemy in the first. In the reverse of the inning, as combative as ever, Clint Leighton used his head to get on but was unable to score. Balcatta golfed a surprise double and took an underserving 3-0 lead after the second was completed. It was there that the rhetoric of an Opposition front bench scenting blood took control. Like the Egyptians and the Tunisians before them, the men of University stood up to be counted. Alex Pellerano, the imported debutante sounding suspiciously like Kristina Kenneally, doubled and then was left on (perhaps a forerunner of the New South Wales election to come – please see my column in the Sydney Morning Herald). Leighton tripled and barrelled his way home through the ribs of the Balcatta pitcher, ire and spite left in his wake. Jacques Martin hustled out an infield ground ball before the Father of the House ripped his own triple to bring the score to only 2-4. Suddenly regime change seemed in the air.

And then our Scott Morrison moment, that seemingly innocuous event that explodes in an opposition’s face and so thoroughly derails their campaign. The pitch count limit that may or may not have been and an inability to throw strikes in relief gifted Balcatta 4 more runs. Chris Pascoe relieved the mound after doing the same for Tim Stivey behind the dish when the latter’s heart proved stronger than his hamstrings, and neither team was able to score. Just before the game was prorogued for the end of that parliamentary session an extraordinary and unparalleled event occurred; a Stranger entered the House. With the blessing of the Leader of the Opposition, but perhaps not that of the Speaker, energy drinks were distributed by a promotions girl mid-at bat much to the visual delight of both sides of the house. At least there was something to celebrate at the end.

Box Score