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ran-orimoto · 6 days ago

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[ Looooooooong time ago, in March ,I reckon, I posted a The Rescuers Junzumi AU sketchdump I’m very affectionate to and it wasn’t really something that unpredictable I would eventually write something for it soon. In truth, I initially wrote this very small oneshot just for myself in my free time (I stupidly feel cringe while writing about AUs and that’s a very stupid part of me I’m trying defeating just like the fankids one), but then a friend convinced me I could share it with the world as a prompt for Flufftober. I mean, why not, I told myself. Am I commiting some crime throwing stories I put 0 efforts in into the net🤣🤣🤣? Mind you, I did polish this ,tho. It used to be terrible ahahah. ]

{ Intermezzo you wouldn’t expect } aka a short one-shot for Fluffoctober about a The Rescuers AU -> •Stormy night

XXX

“Signorina Izumi, keine Sorge! No need to worry! I’m an expert in reading maps and orientating myself even in the thickest mist, ah!” The stocky man opened a piece of wrinkled and yellowish paper. His brown eyes, darkened by the blackness of a rainy night, were apparently scanning the drawings before them as he frantically searched for something he would never find. Of course.

Actually, Izumi had noticed it from the start: how he hadn’t paid a crumb of attention to what he was doing, attracted and distracted by who knew what else he might think it was more interesting than their invaluable mission. For example, if he had been focused on the map he was holding for real, he would have noticed it was upside down from the unnatural shape the venetian calle and the lagoon had, making it seem a whole sea was going to overflow and swallow the entire city.

Due to her usual courtesy and politeness, she had been wondering how he should tell him about that, if she also should at that point since, after all, she could rely on herself and let him play those detective games in his silly world.

Who had ever needed a companion in a first place? She had been travelling around the world for ages knowing she could only trust her own strength, her determination no one else, -modestly speaking-, owned with such an intensity, her spirit. The only mate she had ever needed was the voice of the wind, as kind and reassuring as always, immutable, no matter where she was sent to.

Did those people from up there really believe she couldn’t deal with that situation on her own, she couldn’t take care of herself, she needed someone by her side, a man, nonetheless. From her perspective, from what she had been able to grasp so far, he was the one clearly needing help the most between them, not even being able to speak italian properly and messing it with japanese and german words.

And yet, she had chosen him when they had allowed her to do that, -at least!-. She had, though she had just assisted to a scene in which he was about to get electrocuted after he had voluntereed for the job. She didn’t even know who he truly was, now that she thought about that…Not that she had ever felt that need, either: to socialize with others from the society.

It was enough to be aware they all were adults wanting to help unlucky kids in the best way they could, through money or other types of support, -even, yes, those kinds consisting in sticking your nose in issues that were much bigger than you actually are-. What their life was like out there, who they actually were had never been important. Nobody cared, -and should know, in her opinion-, about the fact she was a flight attendant who would often find herself on modelling magazines or cat walks. And ,in return, she would survive in the obscurity, not ever finding out who he was, where he came from, how old he was, if he was married or not, - without doubts, the latter option held the predictable truth in itself-.

She had always been la Signorina Orimoto, but he had been quick at cutting to the chase and calling her la Signorina Izumi, showing no decency but not surprising her with that in the least.

And he was…Junpei-San…? He had introduced himself like that and she had also heard others addressing him in that way or with a simple Junpei. Against all the odds, he seemed to be known by many members and some seemed to appreciate him a ton, despite the clumsiness he had never managed to hide.

”Junpei-San,” A gloved hand on her chest, she finally interrupted his mumbling, which was the reason why she had eventually decided she couldn’t just let him be like that. The incoherent noises coming from his mouth were so annoying they were interfering with her own stream of consciousness. “Junpei-San!”

”Yes, Signorina Izumi!” Like a soldier, he abruptly straightened his back, but managed to strike a clumsy yet sweet smile at the same time. Slightly puzzled, she blinked for an instant, taking a step backwards without wanting to.

”The map is upside down,” She said, as dryly as you would expect from such an expert at keeping her temper under control. That was one of her good qualities she exploited to promptly make that sudden emotion making her heart beat at a weird pace, even if, again, for just a second, slip in the background of the most trivial of her thoughts,ready to be forgotten and, consequently, soon fade.

In response to her comment, Junpei didn’t immediately react. He stood still, lowered his gaze to the panorama of streets and squeezed his orbs to find that detail, that very little detail, -of course, she is attempting to be sarcastic, santo cielo!-, he had been missing. And then…

“Ja, du hast Recht. Ehm, you’re right, Signorina Izumi, it’s…Upside down.”

”Yeah. It is.” Feeling the time they had at disposal slithering away from her grip, she struggled not to add a pinch of rudeness to her tone, so rare when it came to her, a blonde woman in her fourties enwrapped in a long purple dufflecoat; the symbol of elegance and refinement; a complete oxymoron next to the man in a baggy raincoat.

But Junpei-San‘s fashion tastes were not the main problem concerning him.

”Then…Let’s fix it,” He had begun stuttering and shaking, hiccuping too, but not because they had been wandering in the chilly rain for a while. Her remark had provoked a row of side effects on his body that might have been funny to observe, -she admitted it-, could have made her even giggle in amusement, if she hadn’t been counting each second flying away from them just like that kid, that poor kid.

They couldn’t allow themselves to indulge in more foolery. No.

Her eyebrows twitched and she pulled the paper away from him, accidentally dropping the umbrella he had asked her to hold in his stead go, -it had incredibly dawned on him he couldn’t read his map, if he continued on keeping the umbrella above her head like a true knight would, and per Dio!-.

The umbrella fell on the slippery ground and let heavy drops pour their cascade on their hoods all at once, on the locks of their hair escaping from their shelters. Her legs shaking due to crawling waves of cold, her fists clenching more and more in growing irritation, Izumi couldn’t help gasping: that was it! That was the end! That was the straw breaking the camel‘s back: he was blatantly influencing her with his manners! She would absolutely have to call the SOS society and come up with a valid justification to explain her decision to give up.

”Signorina Izumi…”

“I…I…I just…”

Her exasperated yell cut through the curtain of humidity and ,maybe, -she sensed without being able to explain-, a veil made of something else as well.

She didn’t look at Junpei, whether he had been startled or had grown disgusted by that display of utter embarassment. Indeed, she didn’t even want to. May he believe she had gone nuts and wasn’t the admirable Signorina Izumi he had been staring at with dreamy eyes for the whole day: she wouldn’t be touched by a change of heart happening inside him at all. If he left her in the freezing atmosphere of the incoming night, it wouldn’t make any difference.

But maybe she had always known he wouldn’t, as it suddenly dawned on her the one who would have run away from him, the person who had found himself in front of that side of hers, would have been her herself in other circumstances.

Instead, she had remained there and had silently, unconsciously waited. She waited for that sweaty yet warm hand to defeat the low temperatures of both outside and inside, at a first and single touch of her shoulder. It sent all those nagging shivers and tremors away with who knew what kind of magical trick, and, most of all, succeeded in reminding her Izumi Orimoto, la Signorina Orimoto never threw in the towel, never let stress dominate her clear logic, no matter how hard it was to find a lead, to operate as quickly as possible to rescue an innocent soul.

”Here,” There was another kind of rain that was falling that night. Quieter, more reserved, shyer, it let itself be seen and felt only by Junpei‘s hesitant thumb. She couldn’t help sighing in relief, leaning her cheeks towards that pleasant sensation. “Let’s go home. We will be luckier tomorrow when the Sun comes out again and…The lightnings go away. They are approaching…And very fast.”

”Home?” She echoed, covering his gulps with her suspended reticence.

”Yes,” As if not wanting to let her be carried by the mistral, he grabbed her hand before bending to pick the umbrella up. “I will prepare a good hot chocolate for you. To be honest, I can’t read maps that well, but I‘m not lying I’m good at preparing those. Someday I want to bring a whole tray for the society ah ah.”

…

Chi mi salverà ?

Who will rescue me?

…

I will, no, we will. Wait for us, endure, wherever you are. Give me a little time to…To…

…

Through storms, rain and black nights, never fail to do what’s right.

But ,why not, let yourself sip a good mug of hot chocolate while looking at that mess from the window, as well.

#junpei shibayama #izumi orimoto #junzumi #digimon frontier #the rescuers #the rescuers AU #flufftober2024 #junpei #izumi #look I still think Junpei speaking Wien german would be hilarious since Blitzmon uses german attacks #but since Wolfmon does as well it would be cool to make a difference for once ahahha #in Rapsodia Junpei refuses to to star in Wagner’s opera instead because he hates german #I’m sorry that’s Signor Orimoto’s law #and Zura’s as well since she failed her german exam at uni time ago #anyway Bianca was a very interesting character in the first movie #it’s a shame in the second she just gets Izumi’s worst traits whereas Bernard just becomes mediocre #zura writes

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shejustcalledmeafish · 1 year ago

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Behold an extensive but not complete because he does it so much compilation of John Hart’s fourth wall breaks in The Sins of Captain John (made for @4thwallbreakersshowdown but also serves as general propaganda to give the boxset a listen for Torchwood fans)

Transcript below the cut, but first an important content warning that Scene Six (timestamps marked in the transcript) has background sex noises, so just be aware where you’re listening. There aren’t any major spoilers for the boxset, though.

Have fun and Vote John Hart for Ultimate Fourth Wall Breaker!

Scene One: The Restored (0:01-0:09)

John: Or maybe, if I’d known this was an audiobook, I’d’ve bought the complete Buffy on DVD! (Heavy sigh) Well, before you go asking for a refund, let’s set the scene.

(Five seconds of John’s theme song plays)

Scene Two: The Restored (0:14-0:28)

(Background space station falling apart noises)

John: I reckon I’ve got about four hours before I’m sent tumbling into the icy black void of space which is just long enough for me to tell you [sigh] how I got here. So, strap in, get comfy, and let’s give the fourth wall a bloody good seeing to.

(John’s theme)

Scene Three: The Restored (0:33-0:46)

Sir Thomas, dying: I pray that I shall find the gates of paradise open, and that a choir of angels—

John: Yeah, yeah, yeah, very moving. But this scene has been going on for ages and we’ve a zombie apocalypse to avert, so maybe, we should get going.

(John’s theme)

Scene Four: The Restored (0:51-1:11)

(Faint screams in background)

John: (giddy) Plus, if this was a film or a tv show, it would look so, so cool. Cue exciting music!

(Exciting music plays, accompanied by horse snorting and galloping. The music continues to climax)

John: Heeyaw! (Whip crack) Heeyaw!! (Whip crack)

Mohisha: Heeyaw! (Whip crack)

(Horses galloping intensifies)

John, yelling: This is probably the single most visually impressive thing I’ve ever done!

(John’s theme)

Scene Five: Peach Blossom Heights (1:16-1:43)

(Background space station falling apart noises)

John: (grimly) This is it, John. Beginning of the end. (Much less grim) Or, for you listeners at home, the halfway mark. (High-pitched voice) ‘Yay, Captain Jack is in it,” I hear you squeal. Except for you, over there, tweeting angrily around your cats(?) that (nerdy voice) “actually, I think you’ll find his name isn’t Captain Jack Harkness yet” yeah, I see you. While we’re at it, strictly speaking, mine isn’t Captain John Hart either. (dramatic mock gasp) I know! But listen, isn’t continuity boring?

(John’s theme)

Scene Six: Peach Blossom Heights (1:48-2:28)

(Genial, generic, elevator-like music plays)

John: Basically, while many listeners were totally on board for all the gratuitous sex following my previous outing The Death of Captain Jack, we received some complaints (background sex noises begin) ranging from (gruff voice) ‘utter filth!’ to, uh, (higher-pitched voice) “you people should be locked up!” So, you’ll just have to picture the scene without any of the more explicit sound effects or dialogue. (sharp inhale, voice now giddy) I mean, in reality, this went on for hours, but, who wants to hear that?

(Notable pause)

John: (faux shock) You do? Shame. Take it up with the people who wrote all those strongly-worded emails. You have them to thank. Anyway, maybe they’ll release it as a bonus disk or something. Moving on.

(John’s theme)

Scene Seven: Darker Purposes (2:33-3:01)

John: Suppose it was nice while it lasted. I hope you’ve all enjoyed yourselves. So, why don’t you get comfy, and we’ll see how this absolute clusterfuck comes to a conclusion. …where’s the theme tune? We’re meant to have a theme tune.

Scott Handcock, irl director of the boxset: (slightly muffled as if over an intercom) Uh, is it not playing?

John: No! Scott, it’s not playing, I can’t hear anything.

Scott: (inaudible), how ‘bout now?

John: Nope. (starts whistling)

Scott: How about… now!

(Torchwood theme starts playing)

#torchwood #big finish #the sins of captain john #john hart #captain john hart #fourth wall #the video doesn't look pretty #but it's all audio so doesn't matter #0 editing skills me

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joannie95 · 6 years ago

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Legacy- Part 7

Pairing: Carter! reader x ?????

Summary: Everyone knows Peggy Carter is a force to be reckoned with, who cold have guessed her granddaughter would hold the same ferocity, if not more.This story follows y/n Carter’s life as she faces the obstacles life pitches her.

Warnings: None

A/N: Its finally time. shes really gonna do it

Peggy watches with amusement as the two girls looked purely terrified.

“How- w-when…- “Darcy stutters out before giving up “totally busted.”

“you are indeed, totally busted.” Your grandmother replies, but there is no hint of anger in her voice or stance. No sign of disbelief or frustration, no yelling or gritted teeth. That’s when it hits you.

“You wanted me to find the journals.” you breathe out.

“That’s an odd assumption- “

“oddly right. Those journals held things that would be dangerous in some hands, you’d never just toss them in a box, let alone the top box that wasn’t sealed shut. “You accuse her

A large grin appears on her face “it took you long enough- “

“oh, what the hell.” Darcy mumbles “this entire time you knew- you couldn’t have just handed her the journals Peg !?” She throws her arms up in frustration.

“To shield and the worlds knowledge, those journals don’t exist. The information within them”

“is extremely dangerous in the wrong hands. I’m aware.” you stare at her “I need to know the formula for Nitramene.” You bluntly state,

your grandmothers’ eyes slightly widen “Nitramene was discontinued after Howard-”

“as far as shield was concerned it was, but I know that didn’t stop my parents or Howard.”

Darcy watches the staring competition between the two carters, heart racing as you slightly challenged your grandmother

“Nitramene won’t fit well with your toxin extraction, you can find a simpler way-”

“what about for a super soldier serum process? I think it’d fit pretty well there.”

“It’s prohibited to - “

“I took it more as a suggestion not to try, but Carters aren’t really known for following the rules, are they Agent Carter?” You smirk at her knowingly.

“You’re definitely a Carter.” She mumbles, running a hand down her face in defeat. “If shield discovers what you’re doing- “

“I’ve already covered all my footprints. Falsified my blueprints of the chamber to match the toxin project, everything lines up to be hidden perfectly Grandma. All I need is the Nitramene. “

You slowly approach her, gently taking her hand in yours “I’m so close to- “

“creating something that could get you killed. Something that could cost others their lives if it falls into the wrong hands - “

“something that could change the world. Did you think I didn’t weight the outcomes for this? That I’d be reckless enough to even leave any room for chaos?”

She sighs squeezing your hand in hers “Nitramene is extremely sensitive, it cannot be thrown about, it can’t even risk to be shaken. It’s highly explosive - “

You smirk knowingly at her” you have it, don’t you?”

“Howard destroyed every piece of evidence connected to it. Only a few vials of it exist- “

“are you going to make me go on a treasure hunt for it? Because I’m pretty positive it’s in this house-

“calm down Nancy Drew and let me speak.” She glares at you, then at Darcy when she laughs

“is the chamber built?”

“not yet -“

“I’m not releasing it into your hands until you complete it, then you will go right from here to your lab and begin the experiment. Are we clear? No one is to know - “

“it’s being conducted in the middle of the night, I’ve already figured out how to bypass the security check in and hack into my security cameras to replay footage instead of recording at the time. There will be no evidence, no traceable date, everything is covered with the project they actually assigned me to.”

“Very well. Go on and finish this, just… make sure whoever you chose for this - “

“there’s nothing to worry about Peg, I think she made a great choice.” Darcy butts in, smiling at you with a wink.

“oh lord.” Your grandmother mutters “I’ll be waiting.”

“you won’t be waiting long gram.” You kiss her cheek

“I didn’t think I would be. You’re too brilliant for your own good. “

“I wouldn’t be a Carter if I wasn’t.”

It only took a day to assemble the chamber, Coulson delivered the vibranium a few hours prior, leaving it in a sealed container on your shelf. The Only missing piece being the Nitramene. You wipe away the sweat on your forehead as you drop down to sit on the floor, tools scattered around you and Darcy laying herself across your lab table,

“you could have helped.”

“watching you work is… impressing. But it exhausts me just watching, I’d probably pass out from exhaustion if you actually made me do something. Gotta save my energy anyway.”

You roll your eyes at her answer, laying yourself on the floor and letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment “you know I don’t trust anyone else to do this with me, right?”

“I’d be offended if you did.” She throws a pen at you, cheering when it bounces off your forehead “c’mon, let’s get outta here. We got a couple hours to kill before shit goes down.”

And the countdown begins.

2 am rolls around, you find yourself on your grandmothers’ doorstep, before even knocking the door flings open. Peggy rushing you inside and leading you toward her bedroom, then into her bathroom. You watch silently as she goes to her shelf of various perfumes, when she turns you see a small bottle in her grasp.

As she gets closer, you pick out a small shape among the liquid, tethered by what looks to be a few strings holding it suspended in the center of the small bottle.

“I cannot strain the importance of keeping this bottle steady y/n. When you remove it from the bottle use these - “she turns back, retrieving a pair of tongs “do it slowly and cautiously when you remove it and place it in. Make sure it’s safely sealed into the compartment you designed to contain it, otherwise - “

“grandma, I can do this.”

You’re not sure if you’re reassuring her, or yourself at this point.

She nods as you gently take the bottle from her hands. She escorts you back to the front door, smiling as she cups your cheek

“I am incredibly proud of you - “

“For all we know this could fail gran- “

“but it won’t. Do not underestimate your intelligence darling. Good luck, I expect a call in the morning.” She kisses your forehead before sending you on your way.

You and Darcy sneak into the SHIELD facility, avoiding the halls you know has guards. It’s a lot less stressful since you already hacked into the cameras and began rolling the pre-taped footage.

Stepping into your lab, you go right in to work mode. You press a few buttons, smiling when the chamber emerges from the wall, in the hidden false wall your mother left details for in her notes. She installed it herself, there a few more, but you haven’t had a chance to explore those just yet.

“What do you think your grandmas going to do when she finds out you’re the one taking the serum?” Darcy asks

That’s the golden question “I’m going to pray that she’s thrilled - “Darcy scoffs “shut up, it’s a 50/50 chance she could be totally ecstatic!”

“Or totally homicidal! I aided you in this! She’ll kill me too!”

You laugh” don’t worry about her, well deal with it when that wave comes - “

“she’s a fucking hurricane, not a little wave. Have you ever met your grandmother?!?”

You shrug her off and get to work, setting up the necessary laptops, open the correct container and finally pop open the actual chamber. Darcy watches in silence and panic as you slowly fill each tiny tube with the serum. The liquid a mesmerizing shade of blue, while the Nitramene sits on the counter, holding a bright orange hue.

You adjust everything into its place, cringing when you remember about all the needles necessary to inject the serum. It’ll only hurt for a second. If Steve Rogers could do it, so can I. You set your lab to sound proof, and apply the blackout feature to your glass walls, just in case.

“Alright D, I wrote the directions down and tacked it to the table right in front of where you’re going to be, but I’m gonna go over it verbally for you. “

She nods, following you to her position

“I’m going to get myself ready, then deposit the Nitramene. It will be stable for roughly 5 minutes, before it becomes a hazard. As soon as I step foot into the chamber hit this button” you point to the large green button labeled ‘1!’. “Immediately after those doors shut, hit the red one” pointing to the one labeled ‘2!’,” it motorizes the spider leg looking things that inject the serum, the light at the top of the chamber will turn blue when it’s all administered, and you’ll see the tubes emptied. once the light is red, hit the other red button- “you point to the ‘3! Just a few more D!’ Labeled button “it initiates the Nitramene, allowing minimum oxygen to infuse into its compartment and sparks the energy just enough for the chamber. You have to move quickly to this lever, - “now you’re in front of a yellow handled lever attached to a small laptop on a small table beside the chamber, wires running it to the chamber, ‘almost done babe #4’. “ This entire screen will turn blue when you need to pull it down the first time-“

“the first time?! “

“you nod, it goes by 10% notches of power each time, you have to do it slowly. All that radiation at once would kill me. I placed a note beside the laptop to remind you of the timing. After every notch, the timer in the corner will count down 20 seconds, when it hits 0, you move the lever another notch. Keep

your eyes on the timer. When you hit 100%, as soon as it’s finished it’ll shut itself off, and the doors will pop open.”

When you finally look at her, you see the concern written clearly on her face. You take her hands in yours, smiling at her

“hey, you can do this. I trust you. I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t believe you could handle it.”

“your life is going to be in my hands- “

“I trust you.” You repeat. “think of this as doing this the Dugan way. Always a chance of-”

“ending up in the hospital.” She finishes, tightening her grip on your hands before tugging you into a tight embrace.

“I love you.” She reminds you as she takes her spot at the first button. You hover over the Nitramene, slowly twisting open the lid, and dipping the retractors into the liquid. The orange glow only brightens as you relieve it from its small prison, the tiny ball brightening the entire lab as you take cautious steps toward the small compartment in the chamber for it. Slow and steady, sloooooow and steadyyy . You lower it in, screwing the cap shut as tight as you can. Releasing your breath as the orange lights up it’s small new home.

the clock starts now.

“I love you too. Always Darcy” you lift your shirt over your head

“woah woah woah! Why are you getting naked!?” She shrieks

You laugh as you remove all your clothes besides your boy short panties. “I feel like this looks like the beginning of a bad science porno.”

Both of you laugh, the sound dying down as you step in front of the open chamber, your heart rapidly racing. I can do this, I can-

“you sure about this? That’s a lot of needles - “

“pffft, this is nothing - “your wave her off, praying she doesn’t see your hands shaking “I could do this all day. Oh- “you turn to her one last time “just a heads up, the lights are gonna flicker and I’ll probably scream. Ignore it, and keep going - “

“but- “

“do not stop under any circumstances, got it?”

She nods “your parents would be proud of you ya know?”

“tell me that after this works.”

You back up into the chamber, squeezing your eyes shut as the doors close you in.

The whirring of the machine is oddly calming, you let your mind wander to Steve Rogers. You’ve seen the pictures of him before the transformation, a handsome man before, and just a little bigger handsome man after. You never doubted how your grandmother fell in love with him, throughout all the stories you’ve heard, you’ve fallen in love with the thought of him.

Your thoughts falter as you feel the pierce of all 8 needles over your body, a small yelp emitting from you at the harsh pinch.

That wasn’t so bad. As the liquid pulses through you, the pain ignites. You take deep breathes, as the you hear the first click of the lever being moved.

Heat flares through every inch of you, an uncomfortable pressure swimming over your body. You don’t hear the other clicks, only feel the pressure increasing, your body screaming at the pain spreading through you.

You force yourself to distractions, you let images of your parent’s flash through your mind, followed with memories of them, along with your grandma, Darcy, dum dum and Coulson. Even with the distractions you scream out, your body vibrating from all the energy being radiated into you, bones aching and muscles throbbing.

Please work. Please please please. You mentally repeat as the pain sweeps through your body. Until suddenly, it stops, the sound of the doors popping open startle you.

You squint your eyes at the blinding light that floods your vision. On wobbly legs you attempt to step out of the chamber, being caught by two arms as you lose your balance. You look up into Darcy’s watering eyes as she snakes her arm around your waist to help you stand.

“Well? How do I look?” You weakly ask

She hands you a baggy black V-neck “you’re huge!” She sees your face drop before beating out laughing “I’m -I’m just kidding! You’re fine! Your muscles a little more defined, and your tits are bigger - wait- “she leans and looks behind you” yep, your ass too. That’s not fair man.”

“Don’t ever do that again. I almost had a heart attack!” You slip the shirt on before walking over the mirror on the wall.

You really stayed the same size, your arm and leg muscles just look more defined, like Darcy said, and your eyes widen at your chest, then as you turn to check your ass.

“Huh, didn’t know it was gonna to do that.” You mutter.

You return to Darcy’s side, typing furiously on your tablet,” let’s see how the inside looks.”

“how- oh gross! Is that even sanitary?!” Darcy exclaims as you prick yourself on a fingertip prick you pulled from the box beside the screen and wipe the blood on a clean dish. You use you tablet to scan your blood, an image of your blood and DNA strands appearing on the screen. You grab a journal from your bag, turning to the page you last marked, an image of Steve Rogers blood and DNA that Howard kept behind Peggy’s back (although she actually knew.)

You hold his images beside yours, the abnormalities perfectly matching his.

“we did it.” You whisper, your volume increasing as you spin to Darcy “WE DID IT!! I can’t believe it!” You squeal

She opens her mouth to speak, except the voice that sounds, doesn’t belong to her

“Funny, neither can I.”

Your tablet drops from your hands as the familiar eye patch accompanied by the glare of Nick Fury steps into sight

Welp, this is gonna be fun.

Legacy Tags:

@agentmarvel13 @1v-kayla @5sos-wdw @a-dancing-hufflepuff @avngrsinitiative @bradfordsgreekgod @captainam-erika-trash @carisi-sonny @chook007 @daniellajocelyn @ellieababy @futuremissstark @gummiwormsandonedirection @henrietteoaks @hermionie-is-my-queen @ineedmorefanfics @katykyll @littlephoenix-fire @lovemarvelousfics @maddie-laufeyson @moli1497 @paintballkid711 @pastelpurplexoox @sillydecoy @spodermanpete @tienna-laufeyson16

#reader x avengers #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #avengers series #avengers imagine #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #peggy carter x you #peggy carter x reader #peggy carter imagine #legacy

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butwelivehappilyeverafter-blog · 7 years ago

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Romeo and Juliet with Grunge ~ Part 2

This goes from 0 to 100 at the end but that's what you get with a longer chapter! I wrote this while watching Harry Potter, like the true brit I am, and listening to Zella Day (for anyone who gives a shit.) Another update should be done really soon x

Part 1

~~~

Part 2

Betty tried to keep her head down as she walked into Vixen practise late as Cheryl was doing her pep rant, but the HBIC, unsurprisingly, was a stone-cold bitch who seemed to have eyes in the back of her head.

“Betty, nice of you to grace us with your presence”

Fuck

“Meet me in the gym in 5 minutes ladies. If Betty feels like she can hold up practice, then I will too” Then, with a sickly-sweet smile, she was gone.

Betty skulked over to where Veronica was standing by their lockers, her good mood dampened significantly, and began to change.

“She may be a bit harsh, but I can’t help but find that attitude endearing.” Veronica gushed.

Betty made some non-committal noise as she tugged her jumper over her head. She did not want to listen to Veronica’s Cheryl-based fantasies right now. She just wanted to get this over with before she ends up punching a wall. Or Cheryl. Preferably the latter.

“Jesus, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Veronica teased as Betty just looked at her, unamused and went back to digging in her bag for her uniform. “Look B, I’m sorry about what we said at lunch, it was uncalled for, but you’ve got to admit you’re a goody two shoes. Its part of your irresistible charm.”

Betty felt slightly guilty Veronica thought her bad mood was her fault. Truthfully, she’d completely forgotten about lunch. She finally turned to look at Veronica, “Don’t worry V, it’s fine, I’m just stretched a bit thin at the mom-“

“Oh my GOD Betty! What is that?” Veronica whisper shouted, jabbing her finger towards Bettys revealed chest. Bettys eyes darted down at the large mark just above her bra.

A hickey.

Fuck.

She was going to kill Jughead Jones.

Panic set in as one of Betty’s hands shot up to cover the mark while the other dug desperately through her bag, grasping her uniform. “Keep your voice down V!”

“I’ll keep my voice down when you explain why you’ve got a hickey! What aren’t you telling me?”

Betty pulled on her Vixen uniform and desperately thought of an answer to Veronicas question that was better than ‘I’ve been sleeping with a Southside Serpent for 10 months.’

“It’s nothing Veronica. Just a… I don’t know, fling I guess. Wanted to let lose for once, away from the claws of Alice Cooper.” Betty said, lying through her teeth, blessing her lucky stars that thinking off the top of her head is a Cooper trait.

Veronica stood back slightly, watching her put on her uniform for a moment before accepting her answer. “Believe me girl I get it, there’s been many a night where I’ve been thinking about Cheryl and-“

“I’m going to stop you there in your fantasy about a girl who will quite literally claw me if I’m not in that gym in 30 seconds.” Betty said as she internally thanked every god that Veronica believed her cover story.

“Fine but I want details on mystery man at some point. You know you can tell me anything right?”

“Sure, but give me some time Ronnie”

Betty didn’t like lying to her. But she’s noticed recently, as much as she’d like to tell Veronica all the bullshit going on in her life right now, she finds herself telling Jughead instead. He was her go to confidant now and she’s happier than she’s ever been. Maybe it’s the class divide but Jughead understands her in a way Veronica, with her Upper-class clouded vision can’t. They had, be known to her, been drifting apart recently. Less one on one time at Pop’s or sleepovers at the Pembrooke. In fact, they hadn’t done something together without the usual entourage in weeks, and the longer they were apart, the deeper the cracks in their friendship showed.

Betty was broken, and Veronica didn’t see it.

At least, not the way he did, and he still loved her.

As much as she hated to admit it, her friends didn’t understand her anymore. With every step she takes further into darkness, the more faded her ties to the Northside became and the more she felt like herself.

***

Fangs stood behind the bar at the Whyte Wyrm. The afternoon shift was always a slow one so apart from the usual’s it was just him and Sweetpea playing a no holds back game of Go Fish. It wasn’t very macho, but it gets to the point where you know each other plays and poker just becomes boring. It was peaceful in the afternoon, unlike the normal turbulences that go along with their kind of lifestyle. That was until Jughead burst in, pulling his arms through his jacket sleeves and stumbling hurriedly up the stairs.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Jughead Jones to barge in unannounced. His dad had been living in the upstairs flat of the Wyrm for 18 months, ever since his Mum had run off and left her two kids and their struggling alcoholic father to fend for themselves. FP hadn’t been able to cope after Gladys had gone. It had been too much for him to take, turning to drink more and becoming a burden for his kids to handle. In all honesty, they were all better off apart, everyone knew it. Jellybean was doing better in school, Jughead was visibly happier and FP was, for the most part, sober. But you knew something bad had happened when Jughead comes to see his father without his younger sister.

“Reckon it’s business or dis-pleasure?” Sweetpea asked, evidently concerned.

“Whatever it is, we’ll hear it soon enough” Fangs replied warily. A Jones family reunion was normally a loud one.

***

Jughead pegged it up the stairs, two at a time. He was pissed. Not just your usual angsty gang boy pissed. This was different.

Tuesday’s were good days, he’s had a routine going for the last few weeks with the school merger. All he had to do was go to school, keep up grades, keep any socialising to a minimum, try hard not to stare at his girlfriend, write at the blue and gold while girlfriend is at Vixen practise, ‘write’ with said girlfriend at the Blue and Gold after Vixen practise and finally return home with a blonde under his arm to go live out all his domestic fantasies of baking cookies while listening to shitty indie pop. Tuesday’s were great.

Apart from thus particular Tuesday, when he gets a drunken call from his dad while waiting for Betty and must speed to the Wyrm to make sure he doesn’t drink himself to death. Yep, this Tuesday was turning out to be quite shitty.

Arriving at the door to his dad’s small apartment he knocked loudly before opening the door. His dad sat, passed out in the chair, TV still blaring some sport match, it could be baseball but Jughead wasn’t focused on the details.

He leaned down beside his father and prised the whisky bottle from his grip, collecting any bottles from around the living room and taking them through to the kitchen, pouring them down the sink one by one, chucking the empty bottles in the bin.

He hated that he was still having to do this. All the promises of sobriety his dad had ever made were always bullshit. But why now, what triggered him to be so distraught as to look for answers at the bottom of a bottle.

He found his answer as he went to dispose of the last bottle and noticed a letter, torn into quarters and deposited in the bin. He fished it out and put the pieces together and began to read. It was from his mother. That made a lot of sense.

Fuming he pulled out his phone and called Jellybean.

“Heyyy Jug, are you gonna be home soon or what. I kind of rely on Betty’s cooking on weekdays. Jug? You there?”

“Did you know Mom was getting remarried?”

“Wait what are you on about? Moms doing what?”

“She’s sent Dad a letter saying she ‘regrets to inform him that, as the divorce is finalised, she will be remarrying some guy called Ethan’” He read in a sickly-sweet voice. “But don’t worry, if you’re feeling left out or, I don’t know, neglected by your own mother not bothering to inform you about this, she says we’re welcome to come!”

“That bitch I swear to god… Wait Jug, why are you even over there?” JB asked concerned

“Dad called me off his face earlier, so I came to check and found the letter in the trash. What do I do Jelly?”

She sighed and Jughead could hear sounds like she was standing up, “I hate to be that girl, but there’s nothing we can do apart from wait for him to sober up. So, pick yourself up, come home and enjoy some delicious home cooked food provided by the everlasting radiant beam of sunshine that is Betty Cooper. Betty is coming over tonight right?”

He smiled at the panic in her voice at the question “If I manage to get back to Riverdale high in 15 minutes and pick her up, no one should be around, so it’ll be fine. See you in a bit sis” and with that he hung up.

***

He wasn’t there. He hadn’t been waiting in the Blue and Gold when she finished practise like he normally was. He hadn’t arrived when she decided to start working and he still wasn’t here as she was locking the door and turning out the lights. She was used to this when he was at Southside High. Sometimes it was hard for him to get to the Northside without becoming conspicuous, so she would just meet him at him and JB’s apartment. However, now that he was at Riverdale High, things should be easier.

She was about to lose hope and call Kevin for a ride when two arms snaked around her waist from behind, causing her heart to leap out of her chest before she settled into the familiar comfort.

“Sorry I wasn’t here Bets, something came up that I had to deal with” Jughead mumbled into her hair.

She turned in his arms and looked up to face him, he looked upset. “What happened Jug?”

“I’ll explain on the way, but we should really get out of this corridor before someone spots us.”

“Don’t worry, we’re the only people insane enough to be at school this late” Betty smirked, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the open doors.

***

Jellybean sat on the couch, the record player in the corner playing ‘The Wall’ for the umpteenth time, as she waited for Jughead and Betty to get home. Her stomach rumbled, and she groaned at the prospect of having to get up and make herself something from what measly food they had in the kitchen. That was one of the things she loved about Betty, along with having another girl in the house, she was able to make a meal from virtually nothing. Something the Jones siblings appreciated more than anything.

Just as she was about to admit defeat and chuck some leftover pasta bake in the microwave, she heard the key in the lock and the door swing open.

She stood up and began to walk around the corner towards the noise, turning the record off as she went. “Hey guys, any plans on food, I thought you’d be back earlier than this, so I didn’t bother- Eww guys!” JB’s hands shot up to cover her eyes “Kid sister is present, get your PDA out of my face”

Jughead and Betty jumped apart at the sound, Jughead rolling his eyes as Betty laughed. “It’s not PDA if we’re inside, this isn’t public, this is our home Jelly”

“Still, I want to be able to walk through the living room without finding you working your girlfriend against a wall” JB teased as Jughead blushed and Betty laughed again

“Okay, I’m going to go make something to eat, if you guys want any you need to help” Betty said winking and walking through to the small kitchen.

Jughead gave a lovesick sigh and began to pick up his and Betty’s coats from the floor. “Sorry to interrupt you guys, but I have been waiting for ages” JB smirked, “Did you tell Betty about Mom?”

“Yeah, she was angrier than I was” Jughead laughed “Come on, let’s go help out before she comes out here and drags us in there herself”

“Fine” She said, walking through with him “but any of that lovey dovey shit and I’m out”

“Fine” He chuckled, opening the kitchen door “What do you need help with babe”

“A way to control my anger at your mother.” Betty fumed, vigorously chopping up carrots. “I’ve never even met her, but she seems vile, no offence guys

“None taken Betty, she’s a bitch” Jellybean exhaled.

“We’re better off without her” Jughead stated “as for dad, he’s pretty beat up about the whole thing, so we should keep an eye on him.”

“Agreed, I’ll pop round after school tomorrow” JB said

“I wish I could help you guys out, but, for obvious reasons…”

“Its okay Bets, you do enough for us as it is” Jughead said, grabbing her hand and rubbing over her palm with his thumb.

Betty smiled up at him her heart beating double a second. The moment was broken when JB made a retching sound from behind them “That’s it I’m out. Have fun guys” And left the room.

They continued preparing vegetables for a while after she had gone in comfortable silence. As Jughead wrestled with the cheese grater, Betty spoke from beside him “Hey, um jug. Something happened… at school today that you should know about.”

“What sort of thing?” He asked, furrowing his brow

“Well, do you remember last week when we went up to Greendale for that poetry slam?” She asked, struggling to find a way to approach the subject “And we ended up back here…”

A smile spread over his face as he recalled “Of course I do. Why? Do you want a replay because I’d be all too happy to” He said as his hand ran up her arm.

She chuckled and swotted him off “Not that I don’t want that right now, but I was more referring to the massive hickey you gave me”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that” He looked sheepish but couldn’t help grinning “But what does this have to do with anything that happened at school today?”

“Well surprisingly, when you have a hickey and your best friends sees it, they do ask questions. Especially when that best friend is Veronica Lodge”

Realisation dawned on him and panic began to set in “Wait so you told Veronica about us?”

“No No I managed to lie my way out of it,” She said clasping both of his hands in hers “but it got me thinking, with you being at Riverdale High, its going to get a lot harder hiding this from people, especially our friends”

“What are you saying Bets?” He asked, confused. “You don’t think we should start telling people do you?”

“Why not Jug? I’m sick of hiding what we have like it’s something to be ashamed of!” She shouted “What we have, it’s what most people wish for their entire lives. I love you so much, and I want to show people that.”

“I love you too Bets, and I understand what you’re saying, but that’s exactly why we can’t tell the world we’re together. If we do it will put both of us in danger. Tensions between the North and Southside are worse than ever and if people knew, all they’d think was that I was corrupting you or that you were manipulating me. I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous.”

“Okay, I get it, but please. I need to get all these feelings off my chest or I might explode. I need someone else to talk to about us that your little sister. Please” Betty grabbed his face in her hands and felt him melt into her touch.

“Who do you want to tell, because, no offence, but you friends are really judgmental. We need to be careful about who we trust with this.”

“I have an idea, but you won’t like it” She said, raising an eyebrow

“No, no way! Anybody but him please Bets”

“But Archie knows you, or at least used to. Me, Kevin, him and you were inseparable before your Dad took you to live on the Southside. As much as Archie would like to forget it, you two were the closest of all. It may have been a long time ago, but I think he’s our best shot at being exceptive.” She pleaded “He’s one of my best friends Jug, and he used to be yours. I want that again.”

“You drive a hard bargain Cooper,” He smirked “But what about dear Archibald’s schoolboy crush on you. Don’t you think he’ll get a bit jealous?”

“Well he has to get over it sooner or later” She winked “He’ll understand Juggie. Please, will you do this for me?”

Jughead could never say no to those puppy dog eyes “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but tomorrow, we’ll tell Archie”

“Thank you for understanding Juggie” she smiled widely up at him after pulling him into a hug.

“But, no guarantee I won’t punch him if he’s a dick about it”

Betty laughed and shoved him away, “Shut up and go peel some potatoes”

***

“Betty, you are a magician I swear” JB moaned as she had another bite of apple pie. “Where did you find pecan nuts?”

“I have my sources” Betty quipped from her position lead in Jughead’s lap on the couch “I’m glad my habit of stress baking is appreciated somewhere”

“Hey, what time do you need to get to Pops?” Jughead asked, playing with her hair

“Shit, I should probably go now if I want to get there anywhere near on time” Betty stood up and kissed Jughead's forehead “I’ll see you tomorrow at mine then?”

“Course, love you” Jughead yawned

“I love you too, Jug. See you soon JB” Betty said, walking to the door

“Bye Betty, bring cherries next time” JB shouted after her

Jughead rolled his eyes and Betty laughed before shutting the door behind herself, beginning to walk to pops.

***

“Betty Cooper! Where have you been, we said to meet at 8:30.” Kevin looked exasperated as he pulled her into a tight hug “I thought you’d been kidnapped or something!”

“Calm down Kev, it’s Riverdale, who would be kidnapping anyone round here”

“Wait, you haven’t heard? It just happened earlier so no reason you should I guess.”

Betty started to panic “What is it Kev, what happened?”

“It’s Reggie, he got jumped by a bunch of Southsider’s earlier. They think it was a serpent”

Betty scoffed at that, “That’s ridiculous. The Serpents don’t just randomly jump people”

“How would you know Bets? I dated a serpent for a regretful 2 months and I still have no idea how they work or how they make their money. How would you know after just a few weeks of them being at Southside?”

“I just-“

“Come on and sit Betty” Kevin interrupted “Everyone’s been worried sick”

“Fine” Betty said through gritted teeth. Taking her usual seat next to Archie “What else have I missed in the past half hour?”

“Well, I wrote a new song. Anyone want to hear it-“

“No!” Betty, Kevin and Veronica all said together

“Fine, it was worth a shot.” Archie said dejectedly as Veronica continued her story about Cheryl being a lovable bitch

“Anyway, so then I came back with a great insult about her knee highs when-“

“Hey, who let in the serpents!” Archie interjected “They’re lucky the Bulldogs aren’t here, or they’d be flat on their asses!”

Betty turned to see Toni, Sweetpea and Fangs walk in followed by Jughead, putting his beanie back on his head after having to take it off to ride his bike. She just started along with the rest of them as Archie fumed next to her. What were they doing here on this side of town?

“They’re fucking lowlifes, why do they have to invade everywhere they’re not wanted!”

“Calm down Arch. If you want to know why they’re here, let’s go ask them” Betty said, standing up and making her way over to where they stood in the doorway.

“Wait! Betty I’ll come with you” Archie said, scrambling out of the booth after her as Veronica and Kevin stared at the scene in front of them, transfixed.

Archie caught up with her and put his hand on her shoulder just as she came to a standstill in front of the baby serpents. Jughead’s eyes widened as she stood there, not knowing what to say. She stared back at him and they had a wordless conversation for a few seconds before Archie cleared his throat and Betty snapped out of it.

“Hey, umm we were just wondering what your doing on this side of town?” She asked, plastering a fake smile on her face and removing Archie’s arm from her shoulders.

“Why do you care, Princess.” Toni stepped forward before an arm shot out to hold her back

“Toni” Jughead said warningly, before having his arm punched away by Toni

“You’re not your dad Jughead. You have no authority over me” She said, nostrils flared “I can talk to whoever I want, especially when they’re the enemy” She turned back to face Betty.

“Hey! We’re not the enemy, you’re the enemy” Archie said, pointing at them

“That’s generally how enemy’s work Archibald, nice to see you again too. Its been too long” Jughead piped up. “Now, can you and your girlfriend get out of our way, we’re just looking for someone, then well be out of your hair.”

“Girlfriend?” Betty snorted without thinking, “In his dreams”

“Ouch Bets” Archie said from beside her as Jughead couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. “What are you smirking at snake?”

“Hey” Betty said to Archie as the serpents began to come towards them, fists clenched, “Hey!” She shouted a second time until all eyes were on her “Can we not fight here, please. Jughead Jones, right? Can I talk to you outside” She said, eyes fixed on his.

“Why do you want to talk to him Northside?” Sweetpea stepped forward

“Hey! She’s fine, let’s talk outside Cooper” Jughead raised his eyebrows at her and she followed him out to the parking lot, leaving Archie and the Serpents extremely confused.

***

“Are we out of earshot do you reckon?” Jughead asked once they were outside “Betty, baby, look at me?”

“I think so, oh god what a mess!” Betty said, hands moving to touch his jacket, but stopping herself, aware of all the eyes watching them from inside the diner. “Why are you all here?”

“I’m sorry Bets, Tall Boy came over just after you left, saying how Reggie Mantle got jumped and to go out looking for the Ghoulies that did it.”

“So that was the Ghoulies?”

“Yeah, who else would it be?”

“Everyone’s saying that the Serpents were the ones that jumped him, Mayor McCoy too”

“Shit, we should get out of here. You’ll be ok without me if the Ghoulies turn up, right?”

Betty smirked “I think I’ll manage. I’ve got big strong Archie Andrews for a boyfriend, he’ll protect me, right?”

“You do know I only said that to be inconspicuous?” He asked

“I don’t know, maybe your feeling insecure. I’d be happy to fix that” She said with a wink and pulled him around the corner, out of eyeshot to the people in the diner.

***

“They’ve been gone for ages, somebody should check Betty’s okay” Kevin said after 5 minutes of waiting on edge for Betty to return,

“I can’t see them anymore, I’m going to see if she’s okay” Archie said in a panic

“Not so fast Bulldog” Toni said “For all we know that crazy blonde had pepper spayed him or some shit. I’m coming with you”

Archie and Toni barged each other to the door and darted down the steps, their respective friends staring on at them.

***

Jughead smiled against Bettys lips as she pinned him against the wall, pulling the elastic from her hair so he could run her blonde waves through his fingers. His hat was grasped in her hand while the other massaged his scalp. He let out a small moan when she bit his bottom lip and she giggled when he did it back. They were so caught up in each other they completely forgot about their friends waiting for them inside. That was until they heard the shocked gasps from Archie and Toni as they rounded the corner to see their two best friends in an intimate moment.

“What the fuck Betty!” Archie shouted as they leapt away from each other, Jughead’s beanie still in Betty’s hands. “Wait, I don’t understand?”

“Jones?” Toni asked, shocked “Why the fuck are you kissing a Northsider?”

Betty and Jughead just looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

“Well!”

“Arch, it’s not what it looks like, it’s-”

“Oh, so you weren’t just making out with Southside scum then?”

“You better watch yourself Archie” Jughead said, fist clenching before Betty stepped towards him and laced their fingers together.

“What the fuck are you doing Betty. Get away from him!” Archie was really losing it now, face turning bright red.

“You need to calm down Arch, you don’t know him like I do. Juggie isn’t scum”

Toni was still silent; casting disbelieving looks at Jughead. “How about we ask the others what they think about this” Archie said coldly.

Archie began to walk around the corner when Betty grabbed his wrist, tears in her eyes “Please Arch, you know what they’ll think about this! Come with me and I’ll explain everything to you I swear”

“I want answers too Jones.” Toni said angrily “But if we stay here any longer more people are just going to come out looking.”

“Fuck, okay, split up and all meet at the trailer. I promise we’ll explain everything there.” Jughead planned, fingers combing through his hair

“Please, Arch,” Betty said walking back towards Jughead and putting his beanie back on his head “Let us explain”

“Fine, let’s go” Archie said, expression unreadable

“Toni?” Jughead enquired

“Let’s get this over with, come on Jones.” Toni said, walking back around the corner with Jughead in tow.

Archie stood motionless, jaw clenched “Arch? Are you ok” Betty asked

He turned to look at her, brow furrowed “Why him Betty. Out of everyone, you chose him. A Southside Serpent”

“I’m sorry Archie, I really am but-“

“But nothing!” Archie exploded, “This is a war Elizabeth! Whose side are you on?”

Truthfully, she didn’t know anymore.

~ tbc ~

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead secret relationship

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ayearofpike · 7 years ago

Text

See You Later

Pocket Books, 1990 226 pages, 15 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-74390-2 LOC: PZ7.P626 Bo 2012 (Bound To You compilation) OCLC: 746155163 Released July 15, 1990 (per B&N)

Sometimes it is hard to know what we want coming out of school. That might be even more true for those with congenital physical disabilities who don’t really expect to survive much past graduation. But when Mark meets Becky, for the first time he thinks he might actually know. Becky sure does, anyway – at least, an older and wiser future Becky who comes back in time to break up with her then-boyfriend-now-husband and get together with Mark, thinking that this very act will affect the future of all of humanity.

First things first: More than anything else, See You Later is a love story. Even though it’s got elements in common with Pike’s earlier stuff, this book is not a horror story, a detective story, a straight-sci-fi story, or a murder mystery. It’s a romance from the point of view of a dude, which makes it the first of these books to use only a male POV and only the second to use the first person. It’s got computers, a space station, murder, and thermonuclear war, yeah, but the core of the story is Mark’s growing feelings toward Becky and his despair at the possibility of her returning them. It retains enough Pike that you can recognize his characterizations and stylistic devices, but it’s really not what anybody would expect to come out of this dude’s pen if they’ve read the 14 books that came before it.

That said? It’s one of my top five favorites. It carried me through my lovesick teen years, and rereading it this week brought back all the feels.

I first encountered See You Later around the time I started to notice girls and think that maybe I would like to be affectionate with one. Before this point (maybe around the end of eighth grade) everything I wrote was a straight-up spy heist, but after it I caught relationship drama sneaking into my stories. I eventually realized it was my imagination manifesting the girl I was too shy and scared to talk to, the one I’d built up as the image of perfection and the key to my happiness, and allowing my protagonist to get her without actually having to do anything. Like, maybe I should just let the first paragraph of this book do the talking for me.

It began with a smile, or at least that’s what I thought. But then, I didn’t think much when I was eighteen. I just longed for things I didn’t have, and reacted when they came to me and I no longer wanted them. But love ... I always wanted to be in love, and to have love, and to pretend they were one and the same thing. I was like everybody else, I suppose, and I thought I was so different. I had to find that one girl who was so different, so perfect – who would accept me just the way I was.

It’s both the reality of my existence in high school and the problem of teen masculinity in general: I just expected things to happen for me, especially love. We’re told that if we behave in a certain specific way, the circumstances of our picture-perfect life will just fall into place around us. You can either be a rich jock asshole who cons girls into falling for your status and biceps, or you can quietly support and compliment them until they realize the rich jock assholes are not where it’s at and that the nice guy they’ve always wanted has been there the whole time. We’re familiar with the inherent problems of the nice guy model in 2018, but in 1991 it was just the way to go, not to mention way more attainable for the shy band geek on the honor roll.

I’m not sure that Mark completely fits into this mold. He certainly takes his destiny more firmly into his own hands by actually asking Becky out, rather than only hanging around all the time and hoping her boyfriend magically disappears and that she sees the light of his presence. (Although he does that too.) He is definitely the shy nerdy type, a computer programmer who avoids his high school graduation and has disavowed his abusive family and is sickly due to a heart defect. He could just hang out at Becky’s store all the time and bemoan his poor luck of being born sick and growing up nerdy and unsupported, and face whatever is fated to come his way however Becky decides. But this is Pike, so there’s got to be something more to the plot than that.

On one of his visits to the store, Mark sees a weirdly familiar guy over in the corner, reading the copy on the box of one of his games. It turns out the dude is also a game designer, and wants Mark to come and critique the most recent one he’s written. While at his house, Mark meets his girlfriend, another weirdly familiar person despite her not looking or sounding like anyone he’s ever met (he doesn’t know anyone with long blonde curls and a Scottish accent). She takes an immediate interest in Mark’s pursuit of Becky and decides to help by getting the boyfriend out of the way. So she goes to the bookstore where he works and gets him to ask her out, then goes to Becky’s store and pretends to recognize her from a picture in her “cousin’s” wallet. This, of course, immediately gets Becky to break up with the dude and ask Mark out the same day. They have a great time, they spend the night together, and in the morning when he calls she hangs the fuck up on him.

Wait, what? This certainly wasn’t in Mystery Girl’s plans. It turns out that the boyfriend got wise to the plan and told Becky all about how Mark planned the entire breakup, using his blonde Scottish friend to trick the guy into going out with her so that Becky would be free for Mark to snap up. The girl realizes that something’s up, that the boyfriend has been warned by someone else, and while she’s screaming at him about it, whoops, her accent falls off and she reveals she was faking the whole time. However, we do learn that the whistleblower is a dangerous man, and that the mystery girl wasn’t counting on him following her, and that even though Mark has no idea what’s going on he knows it’s way bigger than he had previously thought.

I’ve already laid this out in the intro, sort of, but here’s the whole thing: In the future, Becky marries her boyfriend and Mark dies of his heart disorder. (And loneliness, it’s implied.) The boyfriend husband joins the Air Force, is quickly promoted to general, and is assigned command of a military space station that is supposedly only for scientific research but which everybody knows boasts an enormous arsenal of weapons. In the global argument over this space station, the general gets an itchy trigger finger, and decides to win once and for all by nuking China. Of course this leads to global war that more or less wipes out human life on the planet, and the space station is crippled and houses about a hundred survivors, including Becky, all of whom cluster together and pray for forgiveness as the air runs out. (Except the general, who is “too busy” – presumably still bombing brown people.)

Then the aliens show up. Only they’re not defined as we would expect. These aliens are nothing more than fuzzy balls of light, and there’s one for each human on the ship. They use their undefined advanced technology to clean up a chunk of Los Angeles and make it a beautiful garden, where Becky can spend the rest of her days in peace and happiness. Only she’s not happy, because she’s still thinking about how things might have been different if she’d married Mark instead of this ruthless warlord. Wasn’t it her support, her help, her forsaking of her own career plans to allow his to grow, that made this dude able to control the country’s nuclear arsenal? Conveniently, right about here the aliens offer Becky a deal: go back to any point in her own life and make some kind of a change to increase her own happiness. They also somehow resurrect Mark and send him back with her.

You guessed it: the weirdly-familiar people are Becky and Mark from the future. Future-Becky’s goal for happiness is to break her past self up with her boyfriend and start her going out with Mark. Future-Mark’s goal is more benign: world peace. See, the game he’s got Mark testing is completely based on the war, and just like with the real war there’s no way to win – UNLESS you decline to launch any weapons from the very start. Unfortunately, the time travelers don’t have a clean palette to paint from, because Future-Becky’s husband has learned about the plan and has traveled to the same time, not to save his relationship but to ruin Becky’s. He thinks that she’s held him back, restrained him, made him too soft, and without her mitigating influence he will be able to successfully blow the shit out of the other side of the globe. Sure, you could argue that this same timeline would be effected without his interference, but then again, he’s a vengeful asshole. She ruined his life; why should she be happy? And what easier way to make her unhappy than to kill the dude who would replace him?

To Future-Becky’s reckoning, there’s only one possible solution: kill the boyfriend before he can become the grizzled, vengeful general, and do it tonight before the full moon is at its highest point in the sky and all the time travelers phase out of existence. All Mark can think to do is ask Becky for advice on how she would kill her boyfriend. And of course she knows, having just broken up with him – she’d run him down with her car as he left his store at night. Which is exactly what Future-Becky tries to do. Only Becky doesn’t have the baggage of thirty-plus years of a shitty marriage, and she runs out in front of the car to warn the boyfriend, and it’s going too fast to stop.

The boyfriend rushes Becky to the hospital, and Mark plans to follow, only Future-Becky knows there’s no point and takes him back to a cave in the hills behind her house. This cave has been around throughout the story, but it’s only here that Mark realizes it’s the time-travel point. It doesn’t hurt that the husband is hanging out there waiting for them. It doesn’t help either, as he’s got a gun and plans to kill Mark right there. So Mark has to talk fast.

Something I didn’t mention before is that with a little effort, the time-shifted variants of the people can experience what the other half is doing. Mark did it before, when the husband kidnapped and killed Future-Mark and we learned what his plans were. Mark asks the others to do it now, to see the pain brought on by Becky dying in the hospital, to remind them of how they once cared for each other. And lo and behold, they remember why they got married in the first place, what was there before they felt trapped and resentful and eventually forgot that wasn’t the original point of their relationship, nor the only way it had ever been.

In the morning, the time travelers are gone, Becky is dead, and Mark and the boyfriend have to explain to the police how and why it happened. This is a formidable effort, considering that a) the only other witness, the mall security guard, was stoned out of his gourd and b) nobody except for the two of them knows, remembers, or even saw any evidence that there were future alternates hanging around and fucking shit up. Like, the car Future-Becky was driving when she smashed into her past self? No such car, no such license plate, no record of sale. So the security guard saw Becky bleeding on the ground, he figures there must have been a car – but he didn’t see it, didn’t hear it, didn’t see Future-Becky standing there mourning herself. The boyfriend is furious, and moreso when Mark adopts the same line. But eventually he catches on, and when Mark tells him what happened in the hospital (something Mark couldn’t possibly know, not having been there) he seems to accept that some things are magical and unexplainable.

So this leaves us to wax philosophical about what the hell just happened, as Mark dies of his heart defect ten years after the story’s events. This part stinks of mansplaining a little bit. Future-Becky described the events of the war and the time travel quite thoroughly, but Mark doesn’t believe she actually knew everything and proceeds to give his own version of events. I don’t know where he gets off, but it is true that he has no plans to save himself for future medical care, and doesn’t even know of the possibility existing as she described. So he has to come up with something, and his something is more metaphysical than science fiction. He thinks that the “aliens” are actually time travelers from a farther distant future than we know, a time when our souls manifest as light rather than in physical bodies – that Future-Becky was being helped and guided by Even-Farther-Future-Becky. This helps to clear up some of the inconsistencies in Future-Becky’s story, true, and maybe we should grant a dying man some clemency as he’s thinking about his mortality and the fate of the future. And yes, a lot of this is coming from me being like another ten years along from Mark dying, and more enlightened by nearly thirty years of societal progress since the story itself was written. But still, he wasn’t even fucking there.

Nonetheless, I really enjoyed rereading this story. It’s the tightest Pike’s written so far in terms of characters: technically, there are only three, leaving out the security guard and the cop at the end (who I think pretty much only exists because our dude can’t resist writing detective interrogation scenes). There’s almost no fat to cut, though the epilogue goes a little farther than is strictly necessary. And honestly, it was warmly nostalgic for my years of thinking I knew myself and what I wanted and needed and actually not knowing dick. That’s where Mark ends up, after all: not knowing, and realizing that’s OK. We might still wonder how this possibly came from the same dude who wrote revenge murderers and sexy lizard teens, but as we analyze what came next (and probably was written before and during this one), it’ll start to make sense. Maybe.

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pavspatch · 5 years ago

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Hyde Cricket Club — the CLL Years

I PUBLISHED this retrospective of Hyde Cricket Club’s time in the old Central Lancashire League five years ago. After so long, and given the situation we’re having to endure, maybe it’s worth a second read.

Thanks to my friend and mentor Martyn Torr, I covered Hyde’s fortunes for 14 years. In 2000 I was asked to contribute to Lee Brown’s centenary history of Hyde CC “Station Yer Fielders Down by the Shed”. There wasn’t room for everything I wrote, so here’s the uncut version.

It was originally dedicated to my friend Paul Kennaman who died at the ridiculously early age of 56, and who constantly proved himself one of the CLL’s most reliable opening batsmen. But I think he’d be happy so share it with the one and only Pete Hardman who died last year.

AS the 1981 season dawned, sport had a prominence in Hyde which it had not enjoyed since the 1950s. Not only was the cricket club about to test its mettle against the giants of the Central Lancashire League but Hyde United had spectacularly emerged from the doldrums.

After 20 years of achieving little they had led the Cheshire League throughout the season, only to have the championship snatched away by Nantwich Town in the last game. Success in the Cheshire Senior Cup eased the pain a little.

The crowds at Ewen Fields got bigger and bigger as the town rediscovered its taste for success. It was in an atmosphere such as this that Hyde CC prepared for its first season in the fast lane of club cricket.

Preparatory work had been going on throughout the winter. Extra seating was added to the Werneth Low ground, more shrubs and trees were planted, and the pavilion and scorebox were repainted. Local businesses backed the club financially, not only for ground improvements, but so that it could meet its new obligations, such as the purchase of grade-A balls.

Hyde’s club’s most important move was to acquire the services of its professional, Kiwi Bruce Edgar, a man who is still remembered with affection and respect. Before the mid-1980s, when the CLL was taken over by West Indies fast bowlers, he dominated the competition, and while it would be wrong to say he won the title single-handedly, he was certainly the key ingredient in Hyde’s success.

Edgar had visited England two years earlier, with the New Zealand Test side, making an immediate impact. The “Complete Who’s Who of Test Cricketers” (1987) said that he “played the rampant England fast bowlers with a cool assurance, a very straight bat, and the timing of high-class player in the making.”

In the months before travelling to Hyde, Edgar had achieved an average of 60.25 against the West Indies, and scored 529 runs in the Shell Trophy for an average of 52.9.

However, Edgar was only was one component in an antipodean line-up which also included fellow Kiwi Peter Holland, a medium-pace bowler, and teenage batting prodigy Errol Harris, a Queenslander who would play for Tasmania.

An air of expectancy hung over the town, yet the first day of the season was a huge anti-climax. Hyde should have been home to Rochdale, on Sunday, April 26, but the entire programme was wiped out by snow and the games had to be replayed a month later. Out of eight matches, play got under way in only one — Castleton Moor and Ashton managing eight overs.

When Hyde finally took the field, the following Saturday (May 3), they issued a clear signal that they would be a force to be reckoned with and defeated Crompton by 52 runs.

Batting first, they were put on the road to victory by Edgar, who carried his bat for 91. Yet the home bowlers had caused problems and Hyde were looking decidedly shaky when Ian Shaw claimed a hat-trick, removing Holland, David Thomasson and Roy Wilde. Suddenly, the visitors has slumped from 81-1 to 87-5. Fortunately, rescue came in the shape of Mike Greaves, who helped Edgar steady the ship. Hyde closed on 146-8.

When Crompton replied they were unable to cope with the bowling of Peter Holland and Alan Berry, and were removed for 94 — giving Hyde all five points.

Crompton v Hyde

HYDE Edgar not out �� 91

Harris c Rigby b M. Shaw 8

Marshall st Stanworth b I Shaw 16

Holland b I Shaw 3 Thomasson b I Shaw 0 Wilde st Stanworth b I Shaw 0 Greaves b Jeffries 22 Hardman lbw b L.Whittle 0 Berry run out 3 Sigley not out 0 Extras 8 Total (for eight) 146 Jefferies 13-1-36-1, M Shaw 7-0-20-1, McKune 5-0-13-0, L Whittle 14-8-47-1, I Shaw 9-3-21-4. CROMPTON Fitton run out 15 Turner c Hardman b Ghilks 1 Stanworth c Ghilks b Holland 35 Jefferies c Sigley b Edgar 2 M.Whittle c and b Holland 16 Widdup b Holland 0 Rigby b Holland 0 L.Whittle c Ghilks b Berry 1 M.Shaw b Berry 11 I.Shaw not out 6 McKune b Berry 0 Extras 7 Total 94

Greaves 1-0-2-0, Ghilks 6-3-13-1, Hardman 5-1-9-0, Berry 17-9-21-3, Edgar 7-2-25-1, Holland 8-1-17-4.

Hyde were off to a winning start and, when they were not being frustrated by bad weather, picked up points on a regular basis. Even so, it was not until the second half of the campaign that they were considered title-challengers. Continually in fourth or fifth place, at the start of August they were nine points adrift of leaders Middleton.

The defining moments of the season came on the weekend of August 22/23, and in the form of pace bowler Gary Wilkinson. Both games were away from home — at Oldham and Heywood respectively — and Wilkinson, a 22-year-old who had not even been in the first team at the start of the season, destroyed both clubs.

At The Pollards, he returned figures of 14.3-4-28-9. The following day, at Heywood, he did even better by returning 9.3-3-27-9. Thanks to his efforts, and the fact that Middleton lost to Walsden, Hyde were suddenly six points clear at the top of the table.

Wilkinson thoroughly deserved his moment in the limelight. He commented: “How can you describe it? It was like a dream. Doing it once was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, but doing it twice is unbelievable. I just don’t know what to put it down to. Before, I had been bowling reasonably but not getting much return. Then, all at once, it came together. When you take three or four wickets you gain half-a-yard of pace. The atmosphere is electric, everyone expects a wicket, and the batsmen are tentative and nervous.”

Hyde won four of their next six games, setting up a title decider on Sunday, September 13, when Middleton visited Werneth Low Road. Whoever won would claim the league championship. Interest in the game was such that around 1,000 people packed into the ground.

Batting first, Hyde were given a good start by Edgar and Harris, who added 81 runs for the first wicket before a great diving catch by Alan Fletcher removed the New Zealander for 32. Play now began to go Middleton’s way, and Somachandra de Silva and Keith Courtney seized the initiative. Peter Holland was out for a duck and it seemed likely Harris might lose his nerve. However, after reaching 50, he moved into a higher gear. Buoyed by his example, the rest of the team rallied, and there were effective contributions from Paul Marshall, Mike Greaves and Roy Wilde before Hyde were all out for 171.

In reply, Middleton were quickly reduced to 13-4 before Rick Purser and Keith Courtney stemmed the tide. Courtney was ultimately run out by Edgar, but Steve Earnshaw and Dave Freeman helped Purser take their side within sight of victory. It was only some very effective bowling by off-spinner Alan Berry that prevented Purser getting enough of the strike to make sure the visitors won.

After five months of cricket, the destination of the title hung on the last ball. Middleton, on 170-8, needed two runs to win. Hyde skipper Peter Hardman put everyone on the boundary — wicketkeeper Andy Swain included. Berry sent down the delivery, Davey was unable to get bat to ball, and Hyde were CLL champions in their first season in the competition. It was a delighted Peter Hardman who received the trophy from league president Mr WL Varty.

Hyde v Middleton

HYDE Harris st Lomax b Courtney 68 Edgar c Fletcher b Courtney 32 Holland lbw De Silva 0 Marshall st Lomax b Courtney 14 Greaves c Ogden b Davey 11 Brown b Davey 9 Wilde c Lomax b Courtney 18 Gifford b Davey 0 Berry b Courtney 1 Hardman b Davey 1 Swain not out 4 Extras 13 Total (all out) 171 Davey 11.3-1-37-4, De Silva 20-8-54-1, Courtney 16-2-67-5.

MIDDLETON Carnegie c Edgar b Holland 6 Fletcher b Berry 3 Mooney lbw Holland 4 De Silva lbw Berry 0 Courtney run out 31 Purser not out 46 Earnshaw b Holland 24 Freeman run out 35 Ogden b Holland 0 Davey not out 2 Extras 19 Total (for eight) 170 Holland 24-6-87-4, Berry 24-6-64-2.

The league’s elite, the clubs around Oldham and Rochdale, were stunned. The status quo had been blown apart by the comers-in from North-East Cheshire. Expressing its surprise at what Hyde had achieved, the Oldham Chronicle summed up the mood of general astonishment by attributing Hyde’s success to the three overseas players, saying Edgar had “strikingly emphasised why he is considered a world-class player.” The newspaper also found room to praise Paul Marshall and Alan Berry, the latter having come very close to selection for the league team. Incredible though it would have seemed at the time, Hyde had already reached their zenith as a Central Lancashire League club. From now on they were on a downward path and, although there would still be the occasional high spot, the club was to become embroiled in a fight for survival.

In some ways, Hyde were victims of their own success. Bruce Edgar was so central to the title-winning side that other clubs began to look for top-notch professionals. However, whereas Edgar was a batsman, the wealthier CLL sides began to look for fast-bowlers — preferably lethal ones from the West Indies. Oldham won the 1982 championship with another batsman, Larry Gomes. But over the next few years players such as Andy Roberts, Carl Rackeman, Neil Phillips, Dirk Tazelaar, Franklyn Stephenson, Joel Garner and Les Lambert were to ply their trade, and to frightening effect.

The destroyer-in-chief was former Glamorgan paceman Ezra Moseley. The diminutive Barbadian made his debut for Littleborough in 1985 and wreaked havoc in the CLL for the next five years. Indeed, during the 1985 season Littleborough were to field a Test-standard attack, with Moseley as pro and Aussie Mike Whitney as overseas amateur.

Success in league cricket began to be a matter of being able to pay out large amounts. The scramble for big-name, big-money players probably reached its peak in 1987 when Rishton signed West Indies legend Sir Viv Richards. Hyde were unable to compete in this spending frenzy. They could not afford star players, and the fast bowling in the CLL was to reach such an intensity that they struggled to recruit talented amateurs.

By the time the 1982 season started, the club had undergone many changes. Peter Hardman had retired as captain — to be replaced by Mike Greaves — and Edgar’s replacement as professional was the big-hitting Jim Allen. Born in Montserrat, Allen was a member of Kerry Packer’s cricket circus, and of the Combined Islands team that won the Sheffield Shield. He had also spent the previous two seasons as a very successful professional for Werneth.

The league had changed its rules to restrict clubs to one overseas amateur, and Hyde’s choice was Sri Lankan spinner Annersley De Silva. Brian O’Reilly moved to Werneth Low from Denton St Lawrence, and a clutch of young players came through — Russ Hamer and Mike Bolger chief among them.

Recognising the difficulties that lay ahead, skipper Greaves commented: “We don’t intend to be rubbing rags for anyone but, realistically, we don’t expect to be among the honours this season. We are going for a younger, home-grown team, but when Jim Allen arrives, anything can happen.”

In fact, Allen was to score more than 1,200 runs, but Hyde were to find the season a struggle. In only their second game, away to Royton, they were all out for 15 runs — the club’s lowest total since the war.

Fortunately, there was a brief spell of success in mid-season, and Hyde managed to avoid finishing bottom of the league. That fate was to befall them the following year.

By that time, Greaves had resigned because of work commitments, and Mervyn Riley returned to Werneth Low Road to assume the captaincy of the first XI. He had spent time playing in the Bolton Association, and two years as pro for Lancashire and Cheshire League side Irlam. Allen was retained as paid man, and Sri Lankan Basil Perreira became overseas amateur. Unfortunately, although Perreira could tweak a ball to great effect, he did not live up to the high hopes places in him. The club suffered another blow when Alan Berry joined Denton St Lawrence.

This time round, Allen managed 790 runs, although he scored two centuries, including an unbeaten 145 in the home defeat by Rochdale. Given the general youth and inexperience of the rest of the side it was not enough of a contribution, and the club finished bottom of the table, nine points adrift of Stockport.

In comparison with the previous two campaigns, 1984 has to be judged a success. Although Hyde were to finish fourth from bottom, they made a good start and, at the end of May, were sixth. Riley remained as captain, but there was a new professional — Rajesh (Radi) Patel who was born in Kenya of Indian parents. A right-hand bat and medium-fast swing bowler, he had played for Lancashire’s second XI, and twice for England under-19s. A former paid man at Friarmere and Atherton, Patel had twice been voted best professional in the Bolton Association.

Errol Harris, the young star of 1981, returned to Werneth Low Road, where the side was further strengthened by the acquisition of opening batsman Paul Kennaman, from Glossop League Newton.

The first few weeks of the season supplied some memorable moments. In the opening game Harris made an unbeaten 108 against Werneth, and on May 19 Tony Ghilks returned figures of five wickets for 16 runs, off 13 overs — including seven maidens — as the club took three points off Royton. The high point of the season came on May 20 when Hyde beat title-favourites Oldham, whose paid man was former Nottinghamshire fast-bowler Franklyn Stephenson. He took 8-55 as Hyde were removed for 155, but was unable to contain Harris, who posted 107. Against the odds Oldham were all out for 149, and other wins were to follow — most notably at Rochdale, on June 9, when Hyde claimed three points as Alan Berry took 4-16 to restrict the home side to 118-8.

Unfortunately, the good form petered out and Hyde began to slip down the table. Harris continued to fire on all cylinders, scoring a third century (107) against Ashton, in early July. He finished the season with 978 runs, finishing top of the amateur batting averages and winning the Sir Frank Worrell Trophy.

Patel became the subject of controversy. As the campaign progressed, a growing number of people began to complain about his style of batting. They said he was too slow — showing more concern for his average rather than the team’s total. Patel’s supporters countered by saying he had to be cautious as Hyde’s batting was very brittle once the first four wickets had fallen.

Despite this, the 1984 season seemed to suggest that the club had something to build on. While Hyde might not have been among the CLL’s elite, they were capable of holding their own. With Harris set to return, joined by fellow Queenslander Trevor “Tank” Barsby as the new professional, there was cause for hope. Yet, all too soon, it would become clear these hopes were misplaced. The 1985 campaign was highly turbulent, and the start of the most traumatic five-year period in the club’s history.

Yet, as the campaign began, the outlook was far from bleak. The line-up had been strengthened, not only by the 21-year-old Barsby — who had scored almost 500 runs in nine games for Queensland, and with whom he was to win the Sheffield Shield, in 1995 and 1997— but also by the acquisition of Glossop all-rounder Andrew Dyson. Pace-bowler David Schofield moved to Werneth Low Road from Denton West, and high-scoring batsman Bill Quinn — four times leading amateur for Saddleworth League Flowery Field — joined Hyde after a record-breaking season in the Glossop League with Mottram. A young Mark Stringer became part of the squad, and the cycle of changes was completed by the appointment of Alan Berry as captain after Merv Riley moved to Stalybridge.

Hyde did not get off to a winning start, but the right-handed Barsby showed himself to be a productive batsman. He scored 76 in the opening game at Norden, and made 57 in the home clash with Rochdale.

With a month of the season gone, it seemed that while Hyde would not be challenging for honours they were capable of a respectable position. But the club was then rocked by the first of a series of crises. Barsby learned that his father was seriously ill, and immediately returned home. Harris was appointed professional in his place, but was to hold the post for only four weeks.

The Harris who returned to Hyde in 1985 no longer commanded the crease as he had done in 1984, or even in 1981. He struggled to find form and by the time he was sacked — following the defeat at Radcliffe on June 22 — had managed only one half-century in 14 games. As the weeks progressed it became clear Harris was no longer happy at Hyde, and even with three months of the season to go, his conversation continually returned to the fact that he was keen to go home.

Even though Harris was not the success everyone had hoped for, it appears that his dismissal came as the result of the way he behaved off the field, rather than on it. This fact was attested to in a statement issued by club chairman Geoff Oldham: “Although Errol has not developed in recent seasons as quickly as the club would have wished, the club’s decision has not turned on the number of runs scored, and the number of wickets taken. Instead, the club has been concerned that the job of professional was not being performed, off the field of play, entirely in accordance with the club’s normal contract.”

In an attempt to plug the gap left by the departure of both overseas players, the Hyde committee brought in Glenn Jackson, a pace bowler and middle-order batsman from Antigua, as the new overseas amateur. Stan Fletcher filled in as paid man as the search began for someone to take the role on a full-time basis.

The choice was John Bell who had come across with Carl Rackeman and played a few games in the second XI at Oldham where Rackeman was pro. An Aussie in the Ken Rosewall mould, Bell had spent 1984 playing in The Netherlands, where he topped the batting averages. He later became Queensland state coach. Prior commitments meant he was only able to stay at Werneth Low Road until mid-August, but he proved popular, and the fact he was in his forties lent some experience to a very young side.

Bell’s best performance came at Milnrow, on July 13, when he scored 145 and took two wickets for 22 runs.

Asif Mohammed was hired for the game at Radcliffe, on August 24, but spent the entire afternoon in the pavilion. Because of rain, only 10 balls were bowled. Then, for the last three games — two of which were wash-outs — Hyde had the services of the man who would be their professional for 1986: Ray Berry. Aged 23, he had been a successful batsman at Blackpool, and had played for the MCC. There was insufficient time for him to make an impact, and Hyde finished bottom of the table. The following year, however, he was to prove a very welcome acquisition, as the club enjoyed a brief respite before it was again beset by problems.

It quickly became apparent that the club had done a very good piece of business in securing Berry’s services. They still struggled to win matches, but Berry could almost always be counted on to do well. While other clubs were paying small fortunes to hire players such as Ezra Moseley or Carl Hooper, Hyde had found a man who was not only good, but “cheap”.

Berry brought with him bowler Dave Newton, who soon hit the headlines by taking eight wickets for 30 runs as Hyde skittled out Castleton Moor for 94, in the third match of the season.

Unfortunately, the visitors had the perfect riposte in R Malumba, who returned figures of 6-48 as Hyde crumbled to 90 all out. Newton was never able to repeat the performance, and began to bowl fewer and fewer overs because of a back injury caused, he said, by having insufficient time to warm up before matches, having travelled from Blackpool.

Dyson also spent a long time injured, after sustaining a badly bruised elbow, and Dave Schofield strained his back. The outcome was that in many games Hyde had to rely on a spin attack of pro Ray Berry and skipper Alan Berry. It did prove costly, but Ray Berry claimed 49 wickets over the season.

Halfway through the campaign, Hyde acquired an overseas amateur. Sohail Babar, an 18-year-old Pakistani leg-spinner was a friend of Anwar Khan, who was then pro at Norden. He made his debut at Royton, on June 28, and as he said he was not much of a batsman, he was put in at number 11. Yet he finished as the team’s highest scorer, making an unbeaten 40. His last-wicket stand with Andy Swain denied Royton full points, and Hyde finished on 133-9 chasing the home side’s total of 145.

The following day, Ray Berry gave his bravest performance of the season, in the face of some extremely hostile bowling by Oldham paid man Les Lambert, who took nine wickets for 45 runs. Chasing 195, Hyde were all out for 106, but the man Lambert could not remove was Berry.

Even after sustaining an injured hand and bruised ribs, Berry made 51, and his 50 was greeted with a standing ovation.

Looking a certainty to break the 1,000 run barrier for the season, Berry suffered a two-game blip in which he was out for five and 11, before making 53 in the final match — a home defeat of Middleton — when he scored 53 to finish on 1,044 runs.

There was general delight at Werneth Low Road that Berry agreed to stay on for 1987 but, as with Errol Harris, two years before, he was not the same player on his return. Possibly he was ill at ease with the captaincy of David Schofield, who had taken over from Alan Berry. There was certainly a clash early in the season when Berry declined to play for the club in a six-a-side competition at Lytham. Whatever the reason, the runs failed to flow and in mid-June Berry asked to be released from his contract.

The club acceded to his request, which chairman Peter Hardman said had come out of the blue, adding: “No one was expecting Ray’s call, and he gave no indication of his reasons for wanting to leave.” However, it was clear that Berry was no longer happy as a Hyde player. In stark contrast to his form of the previous year he had scored only one half-century.

It was a major blow but, within days, it seemed the club had landed on its feet. Two players arrived, asking if they could get a game. Aamer Malik, who was to play for Pakistan against England the following autumn, was taken on as professional. Mansoor Rana, son of umpire Shakoor Rana who was involved in the infamous clash with England skipper Mike Gatting at Faisalabad, in the same series, was named overseas amateur after assuring the club he had played no first-class cricket in the previous 12 months.

The two made their debuts at Norden, on June 20, and it seemed Hyde had made a couple of dream signings. Although Norden were to win the game, Aamer made 75, and Mansoor 43. The day after, it was 88 and 68, respectively, in a four-point home defeat of Stockport. At Royton, the following week, Aamer scored 85 as Hyde took another four points.

People began to believe anything could happen, and they were proved right, although not in the way they expected. A claim was made that Mansoor had turned out in a first-class fixture. It was said he had appeared for the President’s XI against the West Indies — a game in which Norden pro Gus Logie had played. The Central Lancashire League called a meeting to rule on the matter and, despite it being the custom to defer to The Cricketer magazine in deciding what constituted a first-class game, decided Mansoor was ineligible. The player insisted otherwise, saying he was in England for nothing more than a holiday, but to no avail. Mansoor was banned, Hyde lost the eight points won while he was playing, and were fined £5.

It is unclear how badly Aamer was affected by the incident, or by being force to play without his friend, but he failed to reproduce the fireworks and Hyde began to suffer some heavy defeats. After winning at Heywood, on July 4, when John Buckley made an unbeaten 79, despite being up against Curtly Ambrose, Hyde were not to taste victory again.

Against Ashton, chasing 182, the last five batsmen were out for two runs, so that the side closed on 178. Carl Hooper took 8-6 as Hyde were rolled out for 34 against Werneth, and the club managed only 58 runs in the last game of the season, at home to Heywood.

Following Mansoor’s departure, Hyde briefly had the services of Khaled Mahmood, an ex-Lahore City Whites player who was the youngest man to play first-class cricket in Pakistan. He was an off-spinner of undoubted talent but left after a month.

Despite the traumas suffered in 1987, Hyde started the next campaign full of the usual enthusiasm. They had great confidence in new pro Mike Rindel — a left-handed all-rounder from South Africa who had played for Stockport the previous year. Early on, the confidence seemed justified.

At home to Radcliffe, in the first match of the season, Hyde won by 33 runs. Rindel scored 76, and took five wickets for 32. Andrew Marshall — signed from Denton West — made 59. Victory was sealed when Mark Stringer took a superb flying catch to remove Daly and after the game there was general satisfaction that Hyde had completed an effective job on the type of club they had to beat if they were to be a power in the league.

The following week, things got better. Hyde achieved a four-point victory at one of the CLL’s strongest sides — Oldham — and for once it was of no consequence that they were up against a top West Indies player, in this case Collis King. Rain washed out the next day’s game at Walsden, and Hyde were top of the table.

But it was a false dawn. Rindel was taken to hospital with peritonitis and although he returned after only a couple of weeks — when Anton Ferreira substituted — he became another Hyde professional to lose his appetite for the game.

Although a player of great ability, who went on to represent South Africa in one-day internationals, and who is considered unlucky not to have played for the Test side, he became something of a square peg in a round hole. He struggled to fit in with the mood in the dressing-room. He also had problems at home, and as the season drew on it became clear his mind was not focused on the task facing him at Werneth Low Road.

Yet there were some bright spots. Andrew Marshall proved an excellent addition to the squad and made 617 runs. Hyde also enjoyed their best run in the Wood Cup since 1981. They disposed of Stockport and Rochdale to qualify for a semi-final tie at Oldham, and there were high hopes they would go through.

In a rain-affected match, Oldham batted first and made 185-8. Steve Lovatt then teamed up with deputy pro Mansoor Eliah to have Hyde reeling at 18-5 but thanks to overseas amateur Peter Smith they went on to reach a respectable total of 147. Smith, from Geelong in Victoria, was a right-handed fast bowler but, on this occasion, he made good with the bat. Single-handedly stemming the Oldham tide, he hit half-a-dozen fours and a six on his way to making 53. It was an innings which showed Hyde could have won if all sections of the team had performed. Sadly, inconsistency was the club’s trademark during those days.

Smith’s services were lost, soon after, when he had to return home. Hyde finished second-bottom and changes were demanded. Schofield stepped down as captain to be replaced by Marshall. There was also talk of signing West Indies player Jeff Dujon as paid man but when the season began the professional was Scott Hookey. Other new faces in the squad included former Droylsden pro Gordon Chin.

Hookey, a tall, lean batsman, had played Sheffield Shield cricket for New South Wales and the previous season had scored runs for fun playing for Darwen. The overseas amateur was Queenslander Graeme Hogan, an avuncular red-haired Aussie pace bowler who was quite possibly the most popular overseas player to turn out for the club. He had been recommended by Errol Harris and arrived on the Low having taken three wickets for 50 runs from 11-overs in a one-day game for the Queensland Country XI against Pakistan.

It was a very talented squad but as was so often the case at Werneth Low Road the whole was less than the sum of the individual parts. The 1989 season has to be one of the worst ever endured by Hyde CC, who floundered from crisis to crisis.

Hookey, for all his ability, came with a reputation for being difficult to handle, and he lived up to it. Although he scored 976 runs, he would surely have made many more had he not treated the amateur bowlers with such contempt, trying to smash most deliveries out of the ground. He was constantly at odds with skipper Marshall, who clearly found the captaincy to be a much tougher proposition than he had bargained for.

Things got so bad that by the start of July the club resolved to sack Hookey. However, before that could be done, the committee found itself grappling with a much more pressing problem. During the home game with Milnrow, on July 2, Marshall and Mark Stringer almost came to blows on the field. Following David Schofield’s dismissal of Milnrow pro Chetan Sharma, the two players became involved in a tussle and had to be separated. A furious Marshall sent off Stringer, but the matter was far from closed, and the club’s disciplinary committee was convened. The following night, Marshall was banned for one game while, at a separate meeting, Stringer was given an indefinite ban.

Club secretary Albert Hill issued a statement saying: “Mark Stringer will not be considered for selection in any match involving Hyde CC until such time as he can satisfy the club committee with regard to his future conduct.” He was not to play again that season, which was a pity because he could have been a major asset. A highly gifted all-rounder, he had provided some impressive performances since joining the club in 1985, including an 8-27 return against Crompton, in 1987.

Incredibly, Stringer’s dismissal was not the only one in the league at that time. Walsden player Paul Gale was sent off after throwing the ball at Werneth paid man Carl Hooper.

The Hyde dressing room was badly divided and players like Paul Marshall, his brother Andrew J Marshall, and John Buckley, chose to leave. It seemed things could not get any worse but, by the end of July, Hyde were once again hitting the headlines for the wrong reasons. This time the club was hauled before the league for allegedly subjecting Ashton pro Rizwan uz-Zaman to racial abuse, in the Werneth Low game in July. A disciplinary committee exonerated Hyde after both umpires had been consulted, but the club was fined because of an off-the field clash between Peter Hardman and Ashton captain David Lees, after Lees had initially refused to grant Hyde a substitute when Gordon Chin was delayed.

When the season finally ground to a halt, with Hyde bottom of the table, there was a collective sigh of relief. But there had been some high spots among the many lows, many of them supplied by Hogan. Capable with bat and ball, his finest hour came against Radcliffe, on May 28 — a game which has to be one of the most amazing to have involved the club.

There was a suggestion of what might be to come, early on, when Hyde batsman Dave Shaw was hit on the hand, and dropped his bat on the wicket. Incredibly, the handle fell between the stumps, and the bails were undisturbed. Shaw’s shout of “I don’t believe it!” could be heard around the ground.

The Werneth Low side went on to make 211 all out, 98 of the runs being supplied by Hookey — his third half-century in successive games, and comprising five sixes and nine fours. Radcliffe then quickly assumed the whip-hand, and seemed to be cruising to victory when Hogan was recalled to the attack with three overs left.

His response was stunning. He removed Entwistle with his first delivery — caught behind by Andy Swain — and Patel was clean bowled by the next ball. Then, in the penultimate over, he took a catch off Hookey’s bowling to remove Brady.

Radcliffe had lost three wickets in two overs but with another three in the pavilion, and needing only seven runs to win, were very much the favourites as Hogan bowled the final over. Leech and Ashworth managed singles off Hogan’s first four deliveries, and then a two, which meant Radcliffe needed one run for victory. Leech faced, and was clean bowled with the last ball of the game, leaving the scores tied.

The season closed with a shell-shocked Hyde bottom of the CLL table. It had been an extremely difficult campaign, both on and off the field. The established players were failing to come up with the goods, while Hyde’s record, and the prevalence of fast bowlers in the Central Lancashire League, meant it was extremely difficult to attract new players or bring through young talent.

Within little more than two years the club was to decide its future lay beyond the CLL but in 1990 the officials decided to go for broke. In a mood of if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, the Hyde committee appointed a West Indian fast bowler as pro, the man in question being Barbadian former Gloucestershire man Victor “Vibert” Green.

Not surprisingly, there was a mood of renewed hope as the season opened. Despite the horrors of the previous year, there was now a belief that the club would able to compete with sides such as Littleborough and Oldham on level terms. But they were to do so without Andrew Marshall as captain. He had quit the club and was replaced by wicket-keeper Andy Swain.

Hyde received an additional boost in the shape of Aussie all-rounder Martin Faull, who was recommended by former Flowery Field professional Rob Zadow. Faull, who played for Zadow’s Tea Tree Gully club, near Adelaide, was to accumulate 779 runs over the season, and later played 30 games for South Australia. He was accompanied to Hyde by his friend David Crouch, who proved a very effective second-team player.

John Buckley and Paul Marshall returned to the Low, and the club was raring to go. Yet the first game — away to Norden — proved a massive anti-climax. Chasing the home side’s total of 191-6, Hyde crumbled to 62 all out, and 41 of these runs were scored by Nick Brown. The destroyer was Australian paid man Peter Gladigau, who took seven wickets for 15 runs.

It seemed that disaster was beckoning but the side gave a much better performance against Werneth who, at one point, were reeling at 26-5 before being rescued by David Ainsworth and Clayton Weems who added 111 runs for the sixth wicket. Hyde took eight points from the next three games and, on June 2, won a four-pointer at Royton.

Queenslander Dean Tuckwell posted 101 as Royton scored 207-4, but Hyde responded with 213-4 — 101 of the runs coming from Faull. After making only 28 from the first 50 balls he faced, the Aussie scored 31 from the next 20, and the entire knock was off 120 deliveries, and contained three sixes and nine boundaries.

The first five-point win came at Crompton, on June 16, and in mid-July Hyde were celebrating their first 10-point weekend since 1981. Ultimately, they were to win four five-pointers on the trot, Green making an unbeaten 104 at Walsden.

Some more good results followed but, when the season ended, Hyde were in no better than eleventh place and with fewer than half the points acquired by champions Rochdale. It had been an enjoyable season, and a most refreshing contrast to the previous campaign, but for many at Werneth Low Road it proved that Hyde were never going to be able to compete with the top sides.

Demands that the club should stop spending money on professionals, and instead devote its resources to youth development, were to become louder and more frequent. Hyde’s days in the CLL were numbered. Within a year, members would vote to join the Cheshire County League.

Hyde kept faith with pace bowling in 1991 by bringing back Peter Smith. In the three years since he had been overseas amateur, he had filled out, developed a mean streak, and begun to figure in Victoria’s Sheffield Shield side. He was, in fact, to play twice for his state, with Tom Moody being his first victim in a game against Western Australia. But his Sheffield Shield career was to be cut short by injury and he took up coaching.

Smith brought with him fellow Victorian Peter Mahon, a competent 31-year-old all-rounder from Melbourne who proved very capable as an overseas amateur. Andrew Swain remained as captain — his last season with the club before emigrating to the USA — and Andrew Marshall came back.

Ironically, just as Hyde were beginning to think of quitting the Central Lancashire League, the other CLL outfits were moving away from their dependence on top names. Fewer West Indians were available because the Test side was touring England. However, a much bigger disincentive was the fact that star players were beginning to ask for £15 to £20,000 a season, which was beyond even the CLL’s wealthiest clubs. The only Test player in the league in 1991 was Ajay Sharma, who had signed for Ashton.

Once again, Hyde were at the wrong end of the table all season, but they did enjoy one afternoon of glory. At Stockport, on May 26, Smith led them single-handedly to victory. After Hyde had managed only 117 runs, he returned the incredible figures of 19 overs, five maidens, nine for 41, to skittle out the home side for 93.

The following autumn, the die was cast. The Cheshire County League announced a plan to expand to two divisions, and a meeting was called to decide whether Hyde should apply. The debate raged back and forth, but it soon became clear that the vast majority of members wanted to leave the CLL.

Overall the club was tired of trying to compete in a league in which professionals had such a pivotal role. Members had had enough of paying out large sums to men who had usually failed to come up with the goods. At that time Hyde were unable to compete with sides like Norden, Oldham and Littleborough, and the feeling was that the money paid to professionals should be invested in youth development and improved facilities. Such moves would once again make Hyde CC a club players wanted to join — a winning outfit rather than one whose name conjured up visions of heavy defeats.

Hyde’s final Central Lancashire League season began on April 26, 1992. Australian bowler Craig Ingram, a 21-year-old who played district cricket for the Collingwood team, and was a member of the Victoria squad, was employed as professional. Peter Mahon returned as overseas amateur and captain. It was a post he held until early July when, disappointed with his form, and the attitude of some players, he resigned. Hyde finished the season led by Peter Hardman — the man who had been skipper in their first season in the CLL.

Yet again, the club finished bottom, but the season proved highly successful for Paul Kennaman who made a succession of high scores, including an unbeaten 100 at Stockport, on August 16, which made him the only English amateur to score a century for Hyde in the Central Lancashire League. Also against Stockport, but in the home fixture, on July 26, Benito Giordano took three wickets for eight runs, off three overs.

Hyde’s last match in the CLL was played at Werneth Low Road on Sunday, September 13. The visitors were Royton, who suffered a 52-run defeat at the hands of a side featuring three players from Hyde’s first Central Lancashire League campaign in 1981 — Peter Hardman, Alan Berry and Mike Greaves.

Hyde v Royton

ROYTON Brierley c C Kennaman b Mahon 42 Daley c and b Berry 34 Punchard c Torkington b Mahon 25 Webb not out 52 Bamford c P Kennaman b Berry 7 Murray b Berry 15 Woodward not out 2 Extras 1 Total (for five) 178 Torkington 5-1-31-0, Giordano 1-0-14-0, Berry 23-4-80-3, Mahon 15-7-28-2, Clarke 4-0-24-0. HYDE Busby b Daley 51 P Kennaman c and b Punchard 65 Clarke run out 15 Mahon c Daley b Hopkinson 28 Marshall not out 4 Greaves b Daley 0 Giordano c and b Hopkinson 12 Torkington not out 2 Extras 3 Total (for six) 180

Daley 13-3-44-2, Hopkinson 13.4-1-48-2, Punchard 11-0-39-1, McCrae 2-0-20-0, Rostron 8-2-28-0.

Professional Overseas Amateur Captain 81 Bruce Edgar Peter Holland Peter Hardman Errol Harris 82 Jim Allen Annersley de Silva? Mike Greaves 83 Jim Allen Basil Perreira Merv Riley 84 Radi Patel Errol Harris Merv Riley 85 Trevor Barsby (Apr-May) Errol Harris (April-May) Alan Berry Errol Harris (May-June 20) Glenn Jackson Stan Fletcher (June 30) John Bell (July-Aug) Asif Mohammed (Aug 24) Ray Berry 86 Ray Berry Sohail Babar Alan Berry (From June 28) 87 Ray Berry (Apr-June) Mansoor Rana (June) David Schofield Aamer Malik Khaled Mahmood (July) 88 Mike Rindel Peter Smith David Schofield Anton Ferreira (May 7, 14) (Apr-July) 89 Scott Hookey Graeme Hogan Andrew Marshall 90 Victor Green Martin Faull Andrew Swain 91 Peter Smith Peter Mahon Andrew Swain 92 Craig Ingram Peter Mahon Peter Mahon

Peter Hardman

CENTURIES Aug 7, 1982 Jim Allen 112no Milnrow (H) Jul 23, 1983 Jim Allen 109 Heywood (H) Aug 7, 1983 Jim Allen 145no Rochdale (H) Apr 29, 1984 Errol Harris 108no Werneth (A) May 20, 1984 Errol Harris 107 Oldham (H) July 7, 1984 Errol Harris 107 Ashton (A) July 13, 1985 John Bell 145 Milnrow (H) July 20, 1986 Ray Berry 100 Walsden (A) July 8, 1989 Scott Hookey 104no Unsworth (A) June 2, 1990 Martin Faull 101 Royton (A) July 22, 1990 Vibert Green 104no Walsden (A) Aug 16, 1992 Paul Kennaman 100no Stockport (A)

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humanegardener · 4 years ago

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When my ears long for sounds of sanity in a summer of confusion, the plucky voice of the green frog cuts through the chaos.

[dropcap]H[/dropcap]e’s not loud, but his voice carries. He listens more than he speaks, but when he does talk, I want to hear what he has to say.

In short, he’s my kind of guy, and at night when he provides backup vocals to the tree frogs, I fall sleep wondering what his life is like. In the morning when I’m making my coffee, I look forward to seeing him on my daily rounds. Though he doesn’t always show his dazzling face, he makes himself known through the woodland, greeting the catbirds and marking the rise and fall of cicada song.

Many voices compete for my attention during this summer of reckoning, and some days they split my mind into more lines of thought than I can follow to their natural ends, flash-flooding a parched head-scape that can’t possibly absorb it all. It’s in those moments that I seek the company and clarity of the voice of someone untethered to human culture, someone unaware of the latest farces and failures of compassion and common sense, who seems to have a natural affinity for knowing when to speak up and when to let silence in.

They don’t ask for much: Strips of bark placed sideways give the green frogs hiding places and kingly perches.

With his self-assured clucks and the descending notes that follow—the aural equivalent of ellipses that leave me hanging on his every word—the green frog’s voice emanates through rains and birdsong. It rises above lawnmowers, chainsaws, and other macho yelling machines that have taken over the neighborhood. Sometimes the frog might be calling for a mate, or sometimes he might be protecting his territory. But after months of sitting near him in companionable silence, I wonder if he’s also just letting the world know he exists: “Hello, I’m here, and this is my song.”

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Whatever Floats Their Boats?

Before this year, I didn’t know much about green frogs, except that they liked to hang out on the floating rescue ramps in the swimming pool and hide in the spiral-shaped skimmer insert that resembles an apartment fire escape. While other amphibians and insects use these contraptions for their intended purpose—to keep from drowning—green frogs treat them more like snack bars where they can dawdle and wait for easy prey.

When my husband, Will, and I dug a pond this spring in the hopes of luring them to a safer and more natural setting, the plan worked, for the most part. Though one frog still visits his old haunts, several others have settled into pond life, spending their days under rocks and bark or floating on fallen leaves as if they’re hanging out on a pool raft, margarita in hand.

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It’s Always a Party at the Pond

Watching the frogs from a bench about eight feet away, I’m distant enough to keep from scaring them but close enough to get a peek into their daily routines. A couple of the frogs are wary of my presence and dip under water when I round the bend in the path, but one seems to have the opposite reaction, sometimes swimming over to me as I plant seedlings near the pond’s edge. Once he even hopped up on a nearby rock and kept me company as I worked.

Joining us in this little oasis are hunting dragonflies, a cheeky chipmunk, and wasps and butterflies gathering water directly from the pond. Evenings are full of surprises: A few weeks ago, a scarlet tanager flew toward the walnut tree behind the bench where Will and I sat, coming within inches of our faces before making a quick right turn into the sassafras trees. One night a teenage rabbit hopped down the path, checked out the plants, and came over to the bench to sit right underneath me before navigating around my flip-flops and nibbling on grass a few feet away.

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Chipmunk

Scarlet tanager

Common whitetail dragonfly

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A Unexpected Tadpole Feast

Water striders and tadpoles swim with the frogs now, and one week I watched the tadpoles methodically feeding around a frog’s mouth and down his backside. I thought of the fish who scour parasites from hippos’ skin and even clean their teeth; this mutual exchange provides nutrients for the fish and a day at the spa for the hippos, who seem to relax into the activity with delight. I wondered if a similar relationship was at work here, though judging by the frog’s eventual reaction—a shakeoff that looked born of irritation—maybe being nipped at by tadpoles wasn’t as pleasurable. “I’m guessing that the tadpoles seen grazing on the skin of this male green frog may be grazing on the outer mucous layer of his skin,” explained herpetologist Jack Cover when I sent him the video to learn more. Though tadpoles eat a lot of algae and even have specialized dental plates to scrape it from surfaces, “they are not strictly herbivorous,” he wrote. “They will opportunistically feed on dead tadpoles, fish, insects and other animal protein.”

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Frog Frenemies?

Green frogs are fairly solitary, yet I’ve seen more than one sharing the pond day after day. Sometimes they appear to tussle for territory, but often they just sit on opposite sides, giving each other a wide berth. So it was with fascination that I recently watched a frog slip under the water and come up for air right next to another, resting her head on his back for a few minutes until the frog underneath broke the spell with a shudder that seemed to say: “Back up off me!”

A young female bullfrog swam over to “rest” on the back of a green frog, but her motives may have been less friendly than this picture implies to the untrained eye: Both bullfrogs and green frogs sometimes eat other frogs. These two eventually broke loose and went their separate ways.

Were they friends who annoyed each other? Mates? Potential mates? Through my camera and with my poor eyesight, I couldn’t even be sure of her species, let alone her gender. An enlarged view on my computer screen and another conversation with Jack revealed that this was likely not a friendly encounter, because the frog who’d been making the moves was a young female bullfrog. She could have been attempting a land grab (or a pond grab?), Jack explained, or she may have even had even more nefarious goals in mind: Bullfrogs eat other frogs, even of their own kind. “She may have been checking out a potential prey item,” Jack told me, “and deemed the green frog too large to eat once she got up close.”

Two ways to tell them apart: Bullfrogs lack the distinctive skin fold on both sides of their back — called a dorsolateral ridge — that green frogs have. Bullfrogs also have a ridge that wraps more closely around their ears, making them look almost as if they’re wearing glasses.

It’s more than just a frog-eat-frog world out there, though. Bullfrogs also eat aquatic eggs, insects, snakes, worms, fish, salamanders, crustaceans and many other animals. Green frog diets include terrestrial beetles and other insects, spiders, small fish, crayfish, small snakes, snails, and yes, other frogs—or, as many sources write, anything that will fit into their mouths. There are no food shortages for them here in our habitat, and I hope to keep restoring more wetland areas in the coming years. It’s the least I can do for the animals who’ve given so much comfort to me, the few voices of sanity rising above the chaos of humans who have lost their senses—and, too often, their capacity for being sensitive to the needs of their closest neighbors, both wild and otherwise.

RELATED STORIES:

“The Frogs Are Calling. Will We Listen?”

“When the Rain Crow Came”

“Wildlife and Swimming Pools: Can They Coexist?”

A Gentle Call of Clarity When my ears long for sounds of sanity in a summer of confusion, the plucky voice of the green frog cuts through the chaos.

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jesseneufeld · 5 years ago

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8 Things We Can Learn From the Carnivore Movement

A few years ago, I wrote a post describing all the things that avowed Primal eaters can learn from plant-based or even vegan dieters. Sure, we’re diametrically opposed on the role of animal foods in human health, but there are still relevant takeaways.

Carnivores are much closer to Primal eaters on the dietary spectrum, The Primal Blueprint posits that animal foods—meat, fish, fowl, shellfish, eggs, and dairy—represent the most nutrient-dense, most crucial component of the human diet. Carnivore takes that and runs with it, to its logical conclusion: Animal foods are so nutrient-dense and so important that we should eat them to the exclusion of everything else.

I don’t exactly agree, but I see where they’re coming from. And there’s a lot we can learn from the carnivore movement. I’ve got 8 takeaways today.

1. That a Steak Really Isn’t Going To Kill You

I’ve covered these arguments dozens of times on these pages. But it’s truly heartening to see hundreds and thousands of anecdotal reports from people who are thriving while eating two, three, four ribeyes a day for months and even years on end. When you see that, even though it’s “just” a collection of anecdotes, it gets really hard to think that eating a big grass-fed ribeye whenever you want is really going to give you cancer or diabetes or whatever else malady they’re trying to pin on red meat.

2. That More Fiber Isn’t Always the Answer

Of all the food components out there, fiber is the one that really trips me up. I still can’t quite get a handle on it. Is it important? Is it harmful? Is it useless? There’s conflicting evidence at every turn. My hunch—and reading of the anthropological and scientific literature—tells me that some prebiotic substrate is a good thing for healthy human guts, but it also tells me that fiber can be harmful in certain situations and in certain gut biomes. After all, we aren’t living like the Hadza, eating antelope colon sashimi and never touching soap. We live relatively sterile existences. Our guts are not ancestral, no matter how many quarts of kefir we quaff.

What carnivore offers is evidence that fiber isn’t always the answer. And remember that animal proteins can offer prebiotic substrate in the form of “animal fiber” (bones, tendons, connective tissue, gristle) and—if you consume dairy—milk oligosaccharides.

3. That Oxalates May Be An Issue

You know that strange feeling you get on your tongue and gums after a big serving of spinach? Those are oxalates, an anti-nutrient found in many if not most plant foods. They can bind to minerals and form crystals, the most infamous being the calcium oxalate crystals which are the most common type of kidney stone. Yeah, not fun.

The carnivore movement has seized on oxalates as a reason not to consume plants. Many animals have the adaptations to digest and nullify large amounts of oxalates. Humans, by and large, do not. There are exceptions, such as the Hadza whose guts harbor oxalate-degrading bacteria, and likely others yet to be discovered. And there’s definite variation even among humans living in industrialized settings—not everyone gets kidney stones because they ate creamed spinach. But it’s a good idea for the average human to at least be aware of oxalates.

Thanks to your newfound awareness of oxalates, you can figure out ways to reduce their impact if you still want to consume them.

You can ferment your foods. Lacto-fermented beets, for example, have lower oxalates than fresh beets.

You can choose low-oxalate plants. Kale is quite low in oxalates compared to other leafy greens, as are collard greens. Same goes for others in the brassica family, like broccoli, cabbage, and cauliflower: all low in oxalate.

You can improve your calcium metabolism. Eating enough vitamin A (retinol), vitamin K2, and vitamin D will improve your calcium metabolism and leave less of it hanging around to bind with oxalate and form crystals. Eating enough boron (or supplementing with it, as it doesn’t appear in many foods) can also reduce the formation of calcium oxalate stones.

Drinking about 4 ounces of lemon or lime juice in your water throughout the day will also reduce the formation of calcium oxalate stones.

I don’t mean for this to become a “what to do about oxalates” post. But without the carnivore movement’s broad transmission of the oxalate issue, many people wouldn’t even think about them.

4. That Meat Truly Is the Ancestral Foundation Of the Human Diet

I mean, we knew this. We knew that our hominid ancestors have been eating meat and marrow for over three million years. We knew that our meat-eating is probably what helped set us apart from our primate cousins, that calorie-dense and easily-digestible meat allowed us to shrink our guts and grow our brains. We knew that of all extant and known populations on earth, not a one was vegan.

But the carnivore movement makes you feel it. By eating exclusively meat and not just surviving but apparently thriving on animal foods alone, they force you into a reckoning of their historical primacy in the human diet. Now, not everyone thrives. The drop outs, well, they drop out. We only see the success stories—but that’s true for any diet, including Primal. The drop-outs from diets like Primal or carnivore tend to be less catastrophic and numerous than the drop-outs from veganism or fruitarianism, but they’re definitely out there.

5. That the Best Elimination Diet Might Be an All-Meat One

I wrote a post recently about the Autoimmune Paleo diet, a highly-restrictive but effective elimination diet used to identify trigger foods in autoimmune patients.

Going carnivore might just be a bare-bones version of the same thing. It eliminates all the same foods, plus more. And because it’s more of a scorched-earth approach, it’s simpler. You just eat meat and meat byproducts like bone broth, and nothing else. Such stark boundaries are somehow more digestible to a certain type of person. Less wiggle room, less to think about, less to get wrong.

That’s basically what Robb Wolf recently did to treat lingering gut issues: he ate meat and drank bone broth. For the full story, check out his recent appearance on Dr. Paul Saladino’s podcast.

6. That Phytonutrients Aren’t the Only Way To Induce Hormetic Stress

There are other ways to induce hormetic stress besides plant polyphenols. You can fast. You can exercise. You can expose yourself to cold or heat. You can expose yourself to “meat carcinogens” (yum). However, phytonutrients are good to have around. If you aren’t eating blueberries and broccoli because “those hormetic stressors aren’t the only game in town,” you’d better be doing the other stuff. You’d better be using the sauna, fasting, training hard (but smart), and going out into the cold.

7. That Strong Physical Performance Is Possible Without Tons Of Exogenous Carbs

You only have to look as far as Dr. Shawn Baker breaking rowing records, squatting 500 pounds for reps, and doing box jumps that would shame someone 30 years his junior to know that elite performance is possible—at least in one person—on a carnivorous, carb-free diet. It’s not “supposed” to be possible for anyone. Is Baker a genetic freak? Is he the only person for whom it’s true? I doubt it.

Now, glycogen is helpful. But you can manufacture glucose from amino acids and deposit it as glycogen, which you’ll be getting plenty of from all the protein you eat on a carnivore diet. This might not be the most efficient path for all elite athletes, but the carnivore movement shows that it’s at least possible for some.

8. How To Choose the Most Nutrient-Dense Animal Foods

There are the carnivores who eat steak and assume they’ve covered all their bases, and then there are the carnivores who eat steak and eggs and salmon and liver and kidney and marrow and mussels because they want to ensure they’ve covered all their bases. The former group will say something about “nutrient requirements going down on carnivore,” which may be true, but do all nutrient requirements drop across the board equally? Meanwhile, the latter group might agree with the former about nutrient requirements, but they’ll probably also want to be safer than sorrier. They can tell you all about the vitamin C content of fresh liver, the manganese in the mussels, the selenium in the kidney, the long-chained omega-3s in the salmon, the choline and biotin in the eggs, and the B-vitamins and creatine in the steak.

I’d listen to the latter group, personally. In figuring out the best way to obtain maximum nutrient density through animal foods alone, they can provide a roadmap to anyone who wants to include the most nutrient-dense animal foods in their omnivorous diet.

Diets aren’t ideologies. They aren’t religions. You don’t have to accept everything. You can pick and choose what works for you, especially if it actually works for you. You can heed these lessons contained in the post without actually going full carnivore, just like you could incorporate some of the lessons learned from vegans without going anything close to vegan.

Thanks for reading, everybody. What have you learned from the carnivore movement? Let me know down below in the comments, and have a good week.

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lauramalchowblog · 5 years ago

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8 Things We Can Learn From the Carnivore Movement

I don’t exactly agree, but I see where they’re coming from. And there’s a lot we can learn from the carnivore movement. I’ve got 8 takeaways today.

1. That a Steak Really Isn’t Going To Kill You

2. That More Fiber Isn’t Always the Answer

3. That Oxalates May Be An Issue

Thanks to your newfound awareness of oxalates, you can figure out ways to reduce their impact if you still want to consume them.

You can ferment your foods. Lacto-fermented beets, for example, have lower oxalates than fresh beets.

Drinking about 4 ounces of lemon or lime juice in your water throughout the day will also reduce the formation of calcium oxalate stones.

I don’t mean for this to become a “what to do about oxalates” post. But without the carnivore movement’s broad transmission of the oxalate issue, many people wouldn’t even think about them.

4. That Meat Truly Is the Ancestral Foundation Of the Human Diet

5. That the Best Elimination Diet Might Be an All-Meat One

I wrote a post recently about the Autoimmune Paleo diet, a highly-restrictive but effective elimination diet used to identify trigger foods in autoimmune patients.

That’s basically what Robb Wolf recently did to treat lingering gut issues: he ate meat and drank bone broth. For the full story, check out his recent appearance on Dr. Paul Saladino’s podcast.

6. That Phytonutrients Aren’t the Only Way To Induce Hormetic Stress

7. That Strong Physical Performance Is Possible Without Tons Of Exogenous Carbs

8. How To Choose the Most Nutrient-Dense Animal Foods

Thanks for reading, everybody. What have you learned from the carnivore movement? Let me know down below in the comments, and have a good week.

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albinohare · 5 years ago

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Back to basics: Offshore sailing by celestial navigation alone

Navigating by sun and star in the electronic age is a big challenge. Andy Schell describes a voyage of discovery

Star sights need a visible horizon, which you only get at dawn and dusk. Photo: 59 North

I have tattoos of a rooster and a pig on my feet. They’re meant to protect me from sinking. I have a nautical star on my forearm, so I can always find my way home. I wear red pants at boat shows and lectures. I have a passion for the traditions of the sea.

Celestial navigation tops them, with its blend of romantic art and practical science. Since I first read Bernard Moitessier’s book The Long Way, long before ever going offshore myself, I’ve wanted to cross an ocean using only sun and stars as my guide.

In the spring of 2017, sailing north from the BVIs to Bermuda with the ARC Europe fleet, we raised the stakes – we’d sail the route on our Swan 48 Isbjörn navigating entirely by celestial means. We wanted to see if we could do it.

Isbjörn carries electronic equipment, but the crew revelled in navigating by the stars. Photo: 59 North

I first learned celestial navigation ten years ago from John Kretschmer at a workshop he hosted at his home in Fort Lauderdale. John is the reason I pursued a career on the ocean. He’s well known to most sailors in America and made history in 1984 when he sailed a Contessa 32 called Gigi from New York to San Francisco the ‘wrong way’ round Cape Horn, an adventure that is immortalised in his book Cape Horn to Starboard. The very day that Gigi rounded the Horn, 25 January 1984, was the day I was born.

During the weekend workshop I got to practise taking morning sun sights on the beach with the old Freiberger sextant that John had used to navigate around the Horn on that famous voyage.

John described celestial navigation in romantic terms, explaining it in a way that made it as inspiring as it was understandable. Here was someone who spoke my language, the language of the great sailing romantics like Moitessier and Sterling Hayden. John made celestial bigger than just navigating for, after all, the likelihood of a modern day sailor actually needing celestial is effectively nil.

Article continues below…

‘Did you sail that thing here?’ – solo across the Atlantic in a Folkboat

It’s a funny thing, the further I sailed away from northern Europe, the more attention my boat attracted in marinas…

Life-changing voyage: Sailing solo across the Atlantic in a 22ft sloop

On a cloudy midsummer afternoon, my best friend, Harry Scott, and I waved goodbye to our worried mothers and sailed…

Time is everything

“Has the boat motion really settled down a lot or am I just feeling better?” Tom, one of our crew, asked on the second morning of the passage north from Tortola.

He and Cheryl had the watch and were at the helm while the crew was gathered in the cockpit for the day’s noon sight. I led the process while eating a bag of corn chips in an effort to stave off the early-passage mal de mer. Thane had the sextant and Mike was note-taker and timekeeper.

“Is it the 8th? What’s today?” asked Cheryl. “It’s the 7th today, isn’t it? Or no, it is the 8th,” I replied, not so confidently.

Isbjörn is a particularly well-travelled S&S Swan 48. Photo: Tim Wright

Normally on an ocean passage the days really don’t matter. Not so when you’re using celestial navigation. A four-second error on the time you took the sight equates to a one-mile mistake in determining the sun’s geographic position. Time is everything.

Isbjörn had departed Tortola with the ARC Europe fleet and we’d initially sailed west down Sir Francis Drake channel, rounding Jost van Dyke to starboard and pointing the bow for Bermuda. The boat galloped north at first, carrying the easterly trades on a rhythmic swell under hazy skies. Our dead-reckoning plot was easy to keep track of as Isbjörn beam-reached up the rhumb line, full sail flying, at eight knots.

At just shy of 1,000 miles, the passage to Bermuda is long enough to find your sea legs, but short enough to forego that 5 o’clock cocktail without regret. The Gosling’s Family Reserve in Bermuda is worth waiting for anyway.

Photo: Isbjörn Sailing

But the Trades faltered sooner than we all wanted them to. Through the winter in the Caribbean, Mia and I had got so accustomed to sailing in 20 knots of breeze with small sails that it felt rather odd when we first sailed into an area off the coast of northern Florida more affected by continental weather than the tradewinds and lost the breeze for the first time in months. A weak cold front passed overhead and suddenly Isbjörn was on port tack.

Secret GPS positions

We had to eliminate the nearly-impossible-to-avoid GPS inputs while still maintaining some semblance of safety. The old Garmin chartplotter’s GPS antenna had given up the ghost, so we didn’t have to worry about that, or the VHF, which was integrated to it.

We had an AIS app on the iPad that allowed us to see targets around us and their CPAs, streamed wirelessly from the built-in Vesper XB8000 transceiver, but that would hide our own position. We had a paper passage chart, bound copies of the Nautical Almanac and the Sight Reduction Tables for Air Navigation.

Mia would keep a secret GPS record in a separate logbook in case of emergency. Ironically, friends and family following the rally from afar would know our position more accurately than we would through our YB tracker.

Thane had signed up for the passage in spite of the celestial navigation part of it, not because of it. He was an experienced offshore sailor, having sailed across the Atlantic westabout, double-handed with his wife, Brenda, on their Bavaria 37.

“Holy smokes, this is so cool!” he exclaimed the first time he managed to grab an evening twilight star sight.

Getting a reliable sight from the sun is tricky when it’s hazy or overcast. Photo: 59 North

The sun had only just sunk beneath the horizon to port. The western sky was painted an array of pinks, yellows and oranges, while overhead blue faded to black as night approached to starboard. If you looked hard enough, you could just make out the evening’s first stars. We were in that ethereal slice in time photographers call the magic hour and navigators call civil twilight.

Thane had used the ‘no scope, two eyes open’ approach on that first star sight that Moitessier had used on Joshua. ‘I felt that I was becoming an expert in taking star sights since I discovered that it can be done without the telescope, keeping both eyes open,’ Bernard Moitessier wrote in his book Cape Horn: The Logical Route.

‘In this way, a star can be brought down to the horizon because the latter can be seen quite clearly with both eyes open. It is impossible to do this properly while looking through the telescope where the horizon always looks hopelessly blurred. In my innocence, I thought I was the first to discover this method…’

During our one-day crash course in Tortola, I’d described to the crew this method in theory. With one sight that evening, on the rolling deck of a boat at sea where the accuracy of his sight had real-life consequences, Thane had instantly and enthusiastically bridged the gap to celestial in practice, experiencing the same joy of discovery that Moitessier had uncovered and written about some 50 years earlier. ‘Even the best navigators are not quite sure where they’re going until they get there, and then they’re still not sure!’

Sextant sights provide the raw data – you then have to try to work out where you are. Photo: 59 North

Breadcrumbs in the wood

Traditionally, navigation was about keeping a detailed record of where you’d been in order to plot a course to where you’d like to go. Hansel and Gretel knew how to navigate – the breadcrumbs-in-the-forest trick was the fairytale version of dead reckoning.

Navigation was rooted in superstition. Never did a sailor tempt fate by arrogantly declaring they were sailing ‘to’ a faraway port; it was always ‘towards’. This thinking contained equal doses of humility and flexibility that the modern navigator ignores at their peril.

Teaching celestial navigation in a modern context, then, involves filtering fundamental concepts through a particular lens. Take latitude, for example. It’s derived by taking a north-south cross-section of the earth and extending lines from the centre outwards, like spokes on a bicycle wheel.

AIS app on an iPad provides information on other vessels. Photo: 59 North

Where those spokes intersect the surface of the earth creates a given line of latitude, which is drawn on the earth’s surface around the world horizontally. The degrees between lines of latitude on the surface are actually the angle between those bicycle spokes.

Nautical miles on the surface of the earth, then, correspond to those angles. Everyone knows that one minute of latitude is equal to one nautical mile, and that 60 of these make one degree of latitude. But have you ever stopped to think how far a nautical mile is on the moon? Or on Jupiter?

A nautical mile on another planet is still derived in exactly the same way, but it’s the body’s circumference that determines the actual geographic distance of it on the surface of that body. A statute, or land mile, is contrived. A nautical mile is an elegant expression of geometry.

Dive a little deeper. The distance on the surface of the earth from 0° to 231⁄2° North, for example, is 60×23.5 or 1,410 nautical miles. It’s also 1,410 nautical miles from the moon’s equator to 231⁄2° north on the moon, but the distance as measured in feet or metres is much shorter because the moon isn’t nearly as big.

That 23 1⁄2° North, by the way, is the Tropic of Cancer. The Tropic of Capricorn, conversely, lies at 23 1⁄2° South. Those aren’t just made-up boundaries: the geographic tropics are de fined naturally by the limits of the movement north and south of the sun’s declination throughout the year as it traces a sine curve from season to season, due to the tilt of the earth.

The other half of the sun’s geographic position (GP) – longitude, or Greenwich Hour Angle (GHA) in celestial parlance – is directly convertible with time and changes by the second. The sun’s GP travels westabout through 360°, right around the earth, in 24 hours, or 15° per hour.

Logically, then, I can predict the sun’s GHA in my head if I know the time in Greenwich, 1400 UT, for example, would put the sun about 030°. GHA, unlike longitude, is measured through 360°; the sun can never travel east, after all.

In simplified terms, when we take a sextant altitude of the sun we’re creating a right angle triangle between it, the earth’s surface at the GP, and ourselves. Grade school geometry tells us that the two angles in a right-angled triangle must equal 90°.

Celestial navigation is very much a team effort – one crew member takes a noonsight while another notes the figures

So, the complement to the altitude projects an angle from the sun onto the surface of the earth which, just like in the latitude example above, can be converted to nautical miles. After accounting for the sun’s declination north or south, depending on the season, this is precisely how we get our latitude from a noon sight.

A single sextant sight produces a giant circle of position, with the complement to our sextant altitude describing the radius of the circle, the GP at its centre. If we had a large enough chart, and an accurate way to take a compass bearing towards the GP, you could plot this using the simplest of fixes, bearing and range, to pinpoint a position on that circle. Alas, we have neither.

So, in a nutshell, modern celestial using the Sight Reduction Tables for Air Navigation (Pub. 249 in the US), allows us to compare the sextant reading from our unknown location at a known moment in time, with a sextant reading from a known location that’s somewhere in our neck of the woods, called the ‘assumed position’, and plot the difference on a chart, producing a single line of position that just so happens to be a tangent to that larger circle of position… Deep breath!

In reality, none of this is important to the modern GPS navigator. But – and here’s why I love teaching celestial navigation so much – these Eureka moments about geography and geometry and the basic understanding the fundamentals of celestial makes everyone a better navigator, whether you actually ever pickup a sextant or not.

The ocean felt deserted. There were no other boats to be seen, and no more flying fish. No dolphins. Nothing but the routine.

I don’t stand a watch on our Isbjörn passages, instead maintaining a more traditional captain’s role, overseeing the big picture and forever on-call should the crew need me on deck. Again, I’m modelling Moitessier.

He wrote once that when the weather is nice and things are going well, the captain can sleep for 36 hours if he wants. On the other hand, when the weather is bad, and stress high, the captain must remain at the helm indefinitely.

When things are good, I’ll often take half of Mia’s nighttime watch. There’s something about being alone in the cockpit at night. It’s precisely why I go ocean sailing.

Sunrise and moonset

I relieved Mia pre-dawn at 0400 and settled in for my two hours outside while the crew slept. Firmly into the mid-latitudes, and after another clearing frontal passage, the sky had lost all its Caribbean moisture and haze, replaced by a clarity in the air rarely seen ashore.

The glimmer in the east came early that morning. In opposition, the full moon casually and simultaneously sank lower on the horizon. I couldn’t decide where to focus my attention; I wanted to witness that first glimpse of the sun piercing the eastern horizon, but didn’t want to miss Mr Moon dipping ever lower in the west.

Isbjörn sailed on a northerly zephyr and an oily sea, forcing me to concentrate on the helm in order to maintain her momentum, but distracting me from that beautiful sunrise and moonset. It was very fine light-air sailing, but there were troubles with celestial. Where were we?

We’d forgotten to account for the apparent altitude when taking the noon sight the day before, a correction to the sextant angle that’s applied to account for the refraction of the sun’s ray’s in the atmosphere. The log read 581 miles sailed since leaving Tortola when I wrote in the logbook on the morning of 10 May, our fourth day at sea. It had been overcast the day before, so difficult to take any sun sights, and the ones we did get were off.

Photo: Isbjörn Sailing

To boot, we’d gone 12 hours overnight, sailing well east of the rhumb line, close-hauled on a light northerly, which didn’t allow us to lay the course.

Non-sailors assume celestial is about navigating by the stars, at night. It’s not, of course – star sights do the job, but you need a visible horizon, which only happens at dusk and dawn. So it’s down to Mr Sun, who guides you most of the way, and on cloudy days Mr Sun is hard to find. You’re always sailing blind at night.

No matter. At 0300 on the morning of 12 May, just before the dawn of our sixth day at sea, Gibb’s Hill Light on the south-west corner of Bermuda hove into view right where we expected it to. The log read 838 miles sailed.

Accurate enough

Celestial navigation had gotten Isbjörn to Bermuda, legitimately, and with a crew of amateur sailors, two of whom had only just learned the methods literally the day before departure. I’d always wondered if we could do it, and now I know.

It’s certainly not a practical, efficient means, by anyone’s reckoning. They say that ‘close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades’. And in celestial navigation.

Andy’s tattoos reflect his love of nautical tradition

The interesting part is that, without a GPS, we never really knew how accurate our sights were, and we still don’t. In the end Gibb’s Hill Light appeared where we expected it to. Our sextant sights, DR plots and LOP reductions were accurate enough to get us there successfully.

Nobody cared whether our individual LOPs throughout the trip were within two miles of our GPS position or ten, and the crew enjoyed stargazing at night, quickly forgetting the chartplotter gazing we’re all so used to.

Not unlike Heisenberg’s famous principle, perhaps the most profound irony of modern navigation is that the closer we get to perfect GPS accuracy, the farther we get from ever knowing where we truly are.

About the author

Andy Schell and his wife, Mia Karlsson, sail 10,000 miles per year on their S&S Swan 48 Isbjörn, taking paying crew on ocean passages in the Atlantic, Arctic and worldwide. Andy also hosts the On the Wind sailing podcast on his website (59-north.com) featuring interviews with well-known sailors from around the world.

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michaelfallcon · 6 years ago

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DeLonghi ESAM 4200 Review – My Week with the Magnifica Bean To Cup Coffee Machine.

A while ago, I wrote my best bean to cup coffee machines post, and the De’Longhi ESAM 4200 featured in this post, this wasn’t a review as such, as I’d not used the machine at this point, I’d simply researched a number of different bean to cup machines including studying the reviews to gain an opinion of each machine that featured, which is what I do with these kinds of articles.

While doing this research, I gained the opinion that the ESAM 4200 was a great machine for the money, and this opinion was strengthened by emails I received by readers, who have this machine, and who couldn’t sing its praises highly enough.

In fact, one reader told me that they had an ESAM for years, then “upgraded” to a much more expensive bean to cup machine, only to be disappointed to discover that (in their opinion) the much more expensive machine wasn’t a patch on their old faithful DeLonghi Esam.

So the ESAM 4200 Magnifica bean to cup coffee machine was high on my list of coffee machines to use, and to review. But until now, the only material I had written about this bean to cup Espresso machine

Just to give you a bit of info about the way my reviews work, if you’re new to coffee blog.

When it comes to “best…” posts, where I discuss the best of a certain product, such as best budget electric coffee grinders, best manual coffee grinders, best bean to cup coffee machines & so on, I don’t just do a list of popular products. I spend days or even weeks in some cases, researching each product in order to put these kinds of posts together, attempting to give the best indication as possible regarding which might be the best product for the reader.

When It comes to individual product reviews, I don’t take these lightly either, I don’t review a product after having had a quick look at it, or having had a demo or a quick trial – I do my best to write detailed user reviews, written over a period of at least a week, if not longer. This makes my reviews proper “user reviews”, which I hope give readers a good insight into the machine, so they can decide whether or not this machine may be right for them.

Anyway, I was keen to do a full user review of the Esam 4200, so I got in touch with De’Longhi, who very kindly sent me a loan unit, to use for the review.

This isn’t a “freebie review” whereby manufacturers send products to bloggers free in return for a review, and it isn’t any kind of a paid review, De’Longhi have simply sent me a loan model of the Magnifica ESAM 4200 to be returned after I’ve finished using it for the review.

So, without any further waffle lets get to it…

DeLonghi ESAM 4200 Review – My Week and a bit with the Magnifica Bean To Cup Coffee Machine.

Unboxing and initial impressions.

I was pleasantly surprised by how quick and simple this part was. Got it straight out of the box, onto the kitchen worktop, removed a couple of packing protective bits, installed the water tank and the coffee puck collector & drip tray, and turned it on. So far, so good.

It’s a nice looking machine, and is fairly compact for a bean to cup Espresso machine, 30cm deep at the top, approx 38cm deep measured to the middle of the drip tray, 28cm wide, 35cm tall. Just keep in mind when measuring the height of your cupboards etc., that you need just under another 10cm to open the grinder hopper cover in order to load beans and adjust the grind.

I could see straight away how much thought has gone into the design of this machine, they really have done a good job of making it a very convenient machine for the average coffee lover to use.

For instance, the water tank is front loading. You just pull it straight out like an ink cartridge, fill it up, and slot it straight back in. This is a great feature for most users, who I assume will be slotting it into an already cramped kitchen worktop space, if they’re anything like me, and this feature means you don’t need to pull the machine out and turn it around to get to the water tank.

The group head, where the coffee comes from, can be slid up or down to bring it closer to the cup you’re using, and to allow taller cups to be used, which again, I think is very clever.

The drip tray is nice & big, makes use of all the possible space under the machine, and the way the front opens in order to access the coffee puck collector tray which simply slots in next to the drip tray, again I think is very well designed.

Setting it up

I followed what I thought was the quick 5 step setup guide, which lead me to getting stuck temporarily until I realised that what I thought was a quick start guide, is actually “How to prepare an espresso in 5 easy steps” once you’ve already setup the machine – and the full setup instructions need to be read when it comes to the first use of the machine. Doh…

So, on page 10 of the proper instruction manual, I discovered that when you use the machine for the first time, you need to turn the steam on, all the way anti-clockwise, and then wait for the water flow to stop, and for all the lights to flash, to indicate that you now need to turn off the steam. Once I did this, all was well :-).

So just keep in mind that the single A4 glossy 5 step guide isn’t a setup guide, it’s a guide to making Espresso once you have set up the machine as per the instruction manual – which I have to say is really straightforward.

First use

This is a very easy machine to use, it’s all really straightforward. I turned it on, filled the hopper with coffee beans, turned the strength to Max (of course), set the volume/quantity to just under the half position, left the grind setting at the factory setting, pressed the single cup button, and hey presto, or should we say Hey Espresso? ;-).

The first espresso flowed far too quickly, I got about 50g of coffee in about 15 seconds, which is definitely what we would call a “sink shot” rather than a “drink shot”, but I expected this, it is going to take some dialling in, and also in terms of the volume/quantity setting (which I’ll get into later).

I then adjusted the grind finer, tried a couple of shots at this, and it was definitely going in the right direction. After a few more trials, I got the flow about right, extracting around 30-32g in around 30 seconds.

General observations after regular use

The first thing I want to say about the De’Longhi ESAM 4200, after some regular use, is that I think this is a brilliant all-around bean to cup Espresso machine, and I reckon its a great choice for most coffee lovers who want to be able to make Espresso at home.

It’s so simple to use, it’s really quick to heat up and to be ready to roll, it’s just such a good machine generally speaking, that I think it’s a great solution for most people – given that it’s probably the cheapest bean to cup Espresso machine on the market.

If all you wanted to know was is this a good bean to cup coffee machine for the money, then in my humble the answer is, definitely.You can certainly spend more than this on a bean to cup machine if you really want to, for things like touchscreen controls and fully automated coffee & milk, but if you’re not bothered about stuff like that, and you don’t want to spend more than you have to, then I think this is a great choice.

That being said, I’ll now get into more detail. Starting off with:

The good stuff:

Fast coffee – quick warm-up time.

Great coffee is something worth waiting for, and some of the best commercial and prosumer espresso machines take quite a while to be ready to use. When it comes to machines that are intended for the consumer market, though, convenience is important.

Nespresso machines, the ultimate in convenience when it comes to coffee, usually have 25 second warm-up times, the Sage Creatista plus has an incredible 3 second warm up time. Domestic Espresso machines don’t tend to be ready to use quite as quickly as Nespresso, but the Esam 4200 is very quick for an Espresso machine.

I was pleasantly surprised to find this bean to cup Espresso machine is ready to produce Espresso after a quick cleaning/priming cycle, under a minute.

Great Espresso

Obviously, the quality of the Espresso is important for an Espresso machine review – and I’m very impressed with the quality of the Espresso produced by the ESAM 4200. I think the majority of coffee lovers will be very happy with the quality of the Espresso that this bean to cup Espresso machine will produce, as long as they’re using great coffee beans of course!

Do I think you could get better Espresso from a prosumer setup with a separate grinder, costing around a thousand pounds or upwards? Well, yes – once you’ve gone through the learning curve and developed the necessary skills.

As I’ve said in other posts, there are two types of people who make Espresso at home – the “average coffee lover” who likes coffee but just wants to press a button – and the “home Barista” who is happy to invest a significant amount of time, money and effort in continually increasing their Espresso making skills, along with developing their coffee palate, which will better enable them to enjoy the fruits of their labour. Bean to cup machines are for the average coffee lover, and if this is you – then I think the ESAM 4200 is a great choice if you want to steam and pour your own milk.

Capable of proper microfoam for Latte art!

I wasn’t expecting to be writing this about a domestic bean to cup espresso machine! The popular option with domestic Espresso machines are panarello wands, a sheath which covers the steam pipe and introduces steam to the milk via holes on the side. These kinds of steam wands are, in my humble opinion, about as much use as chocolate fireguards. They produce only large bubbled froth, to be spooned into cappuccino – which is fine if that’s what you like.

If, however, you’re wanting to produce lovely, shiny microfoam, with much smaller bubbles, for making delicious velvety flat whites, cortado/piccolo, macchiato, latte or cappuccino, and to have a go at pouring latte art, then panarello isn’t going to work for you.

De’Longhi have recognized this, and they have made it very easy to simply pull off the panarello to reveal the plastic steam pipe, which is essentially a single hole steam tip steam wand, or at least works in a similar fashion.

The photos bove are of the latte art I poured with milk steamed with the ESAM 4200, with the Panarello wand removed.

This is the best angle to hold the milk jug when using the steam wand without the panarello.

Just one thing I have to say here is that I’ve cheated slightly, as I’ve used my Espro torrid 2 milk jug, as I talk about in my latte art hack post. This jug is designed to help single hole steam tips to get the milk spinning, I found it a great help with the Gaggia classic, and it worked brilliantly with this De’Longhi bean to cup espresso machine.

Quiet grinding – enjoy your morning coffee without waking up the street.

The integrated grinder is fairly quiet, it makes a higher pitch sound than my Sage Smart Grinder Pro, but it’s not overly loud, I’d say a similar volume to a boiling kettle, maybe slightly louder but not much. I’ve read some complaints about budget coffeee grinders re the noise levels, but I don’t think you’ll have an issue with the integrated grinder on the ESAM 4200.

Big water tank & easy to fill

The water tank is 1.8l, which is a fair sized water tank for an Espresso machine. What I really like about this water tank though, is it is so easy to access and to fill. As I mentioned earlier in the introduction, it pulls straight out from the front, so you don’t need to access the side or the bank of the machine, you just pull out the tank, stick it under the tap, and slide it back in, perfect!

Big drip tray

I like the fact that the drip tray uses all of the available space at the bottom of the machine, to produce a decent sized drip tray, meaning that you don’t have to constantly be emptying it. This may seem like a little thing, but little things can make a big difference.

Easy maintenance

The front of the machine opens, allowing you to pull out the drip tray, which brings the coffee puck collector with it. Inside this you’ll find your used pucks of grounds, to be put in the compost. Empty the drip tray and the puck collector, give it a rinse, stick it back in. You will want to wipe the inside of the front, when you open it up you’ll see some coffee splashes onto parts of the inside of the front, so giving it a wipe down while you’re in there is good practise. Other than this, there’s an auto maintenance cycle that happens each time you turn the machine on – and running the descale cycle etc., all seems straightforward. The machine comes with a pack of descaler solution.

The bad stuff:

I have to say that none of these are deal breakers, they wouldn’t stop me from choosing the ESAM 4200 if I was going to buy a bean to cup coffee machine, they’re fairly small things really, you might think I’m nitpicking, but I don’t think it would be a balanced review if I didn’t include these observations.

Small grind adjustment range.

There are 14 grind settings, from 1-7 with .5 increments. In practice, with the beans I used with this machine, I didn’t have any problem, although with one of them I did have to go down to only one half step higher than the very lowest setting, and the highest setting I found dialled in at with any of the beans I tried was about the halfway point at 3.5. This didn’t cause me any problems with any of the beans I used with the machine, so I’m probably moaning about nothing ;-).

Hopper not detachable.

Again, this isn’t a deal breaker at all, in fact you’ll probably think I’m nitpicking, and I suppose I am, but with the hopper being integrated, it means you have to use any beans you put in there. There’s no easy way to get the beans out once you’ve put them in, because of the finger guard – so if you were wanting to try another bean, you’d have to go through the beans that are in there already.

I don’t think that this wouldn’t be a problem at all for the vast majority of people, as most people will want to use all the beans they have before opening the next bag. The only reason I found this a bit of a pain is I was testing the machine with different beans. The hopper capacity is only a couple of hundred grams anyway, so it’s not like you’d have to waste a load of beans, and in theory you could get a lot of them out by taking out the water tank, emptying the waste collector and drip tray, and tipping up the machine.

No references for volume settings.

The dial for the amount of coffee desired has no reference points around it to refer back to.

For instance, I found that for double Espresso, I needed to turn the dial to about twenty to (imagining a clock face around the dial), it took me a few wasted shots to figure that out. It’s no big deal, you could always put a mark on there yourself if you wanted to, but I just can’t understand why they haven’t put a numbered dial around it, so the user at least has a reference to go back to.

They could put images around the dial to show the approx range for a single Espresso, double Espresso, Lungo etc., – I just think this would make it a lot more convenient for the user, keeping in mind that bean to cup machines are all about convenience.

Like I say, not a huge deal, but I’m just not sure why they don’t put a handy face around this dial to help the user.

By the way, a quick tip re making Amercano & long black with Espresso machines.

First of all, a Lungo, or “long black” isn’t the same as an Americano.

Americano is espresso poured into hot water (not the other way around, by the way. You can do it that way if you like, if you’re a Neanderthal ;-), but as far as I’m concerned the “right way” is water first, Espresso on top), whereas a long black or lungo is basically a longer shot, rather than a mix of Espresso and hot water.

Yes they’re both a mix of water and Espresso, but with Lungo you’re continuing to extract coffee – as the water is still flowing through the puck of grounds, whereas with Americano you’re pulling the shot into fresh hot water, or pulling the shot into an espresso cup/glass and dumping this into the hot water.

So technically speaking, if you use the bean to cup machine to dispense a bigger cup of coffee, you’re making a Lungo or long black, and if you pull your shot into hot water you’re making an Americano.

I prefer the taste of Americano to Lungo, but each to their own, so try it both ways and see what you prefer.

Price

£420 on the De’Longhi website, currently £299 on Amazon UK, also £299 at coop online, and from £289 new on eBay, and used on eBay from about £120-£200 (although I’d be cautious personally about buying a used bean to cup machine without warranty).

To the uninitiated, a few hundred quid for a coffee machine probably seems like a lot – but actually, this is a really low price for a bean to cup Espresso machine, especially given that it’s a very well known brand, and I think it’s great value for money at this price.

Conclusion.

I’m really impressed with the Esam 4200, it’s easy to see why it’s the best selling bean to cup Espresso machine on Amazon UK. I would definitely recommend this to anyone who wants a bean to cup Espresso machine, who doesn’t want to pay more than they have to, and who wants to steam and pour their own milk rather than just pressing a button.

There are one touch machines, which froth the milk for you automatically meaning all you do is select what coffee you want, and then walk away with it. These kinds of machines tend to cost between double, to about six or seven times the price of the ESAM 4200, and some of them don’t have anywhere near the same kind of average review scores (the Esam 4200 has 4.4/5 stars from over 1700 reviews – which is difficult to beat).

Life is like a box of chocolates, so follow me on Twitter, Instagram & Facebook and that’s all I have to say about that.

DeLonghi ESAM 4200 Review – My Week with the Magnifica Bean To Cup Coffee Machine. published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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machineagenyc · 7 years ago

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Incentive Auction Concludes. Machine Age Begins.

Well, here it is. The inaugural post of Machine Age.

I begin where I left off, with the U.S. broadcast band incentive auction.

I want to inform you, especially if you are a U.S. citizen, AKA U.S. consumer, that the incentive auction bombed.

Big time.

Or, it succesfully bombed by meeting the final stage rule and then some.

This statement does not make sense if you are new to the incentive auction hedgemaze. For those foiks, let’s briefly get up to speed, and the statement will make sense at some point in this article, I hope.

The auctions, plural, are over, but the incentive auction is not. At least the rules of the foregone auctions still require the arduous repacking of remaining broadcasters out of cleared spectrum, which is part of the “transition” for them and everyone else who uses spectrum above 614 MHz, and the collection and disbursement of funds from participants. The transition began April 13th of this month with the release of the Closing and Channel Reassignment Public Notice. The transition ends July 13, 2020, 39 months from now, and 12 months later on July 13, 2021 for LPTV stations. (If you need a refresher, check out this article I wrote last year, or the FCC’s incentive auction explainer.)

By measures of law and politics and technology, the incentive auctions are an astonishing success. The Commission and in particular the Incentive Auction Task Force used a cold fusion of legal agility, sophisticated software modeling to reckon financial states and future states and all that pesky electromagnetic stuff causing geospatial conflicts between coverage areas, and good old sweet talkin’ to execute Section 6403 in the Spectrum Act as found in The Middle Class Tax Relief and Job Creation Act of 2012 - a Congressional mandate to repurpose UHF broadcast spectrum for 21st century digital services with scant guidelines on how to get it done.

Some compared §6403 to a Rubik’s cube. I don’t think so. More like this:

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§6403 unleashed the giant stone ball from Indiana Jones upon the FCC, amid slings and arrows and petitions and lawsuits from just about everyone with a stake in or to be had in 600 MHz. The FCC delivered the fine print and execution of the first incentive auction with, all things considered, groundbreaking originality of thought, at breakneck speed.

Roadmap and execution are two things. Outcome is another.

When I look at the outcome of this unprecedented event, I see no substantial benefit to the public and public good on the near and middle horizon. Governments, economists, and engineers may have learned a lot from the failure, but the failure was a heavy cost to society. It is much more difficult to say whether what was learned by the failure will compensate society in the long term. Technologists think that it will.

Please don’t confuse this statement with jabs at the Task Force and countless others who brought the concept to bear the fruit of a new kind auction, which as the technologists argue, may find legitimate use by governments and the private sector all over the world. Someday.

Rather, consider it possible that a brilliant idea is not necessarily a good idea.

The modern world is filled with these ideas.

Is the incentive auction of 2016-17 one of them?

My opinion is yes.

It may be unfair of me, who so recently commenced self-directed study of spectrum regulation and the spokes from which it is made, to lay this ‘yes’ down. Especially with the cheap advantage of hindsight. The incentive auction may be a brilliant idea, but once again, unprecedented. No government has ever executed a two-sided incentive auction. Even the wisest and most benevolent authority cannot eliminate ipso facto causality, unintended consequences or unexpected failure of intended benefits. They can only minimize the probability of negative outcomes using informed strategy.

For the United States, in 2017, the incentive auction was a brilliant idea, but known external costs combined with unknown uncertainty led to a disappointing outcome and disappointing benefits for the U.S. The failure may, may, bring benefits someday. But the blade of innovation could swing the other way, too. Incentive auctions might not end up being as useful after all, or something the first incentive auction kicked up may kick back unexpectedly years or decades down the road.

The concept behind the incentive auction is an innovative system of technologies built around a singular aim: re-zoning TV band spectrum to flexible mixed use mobile broadband spectrum - clearing up an old shantytown to make room for a shining city - without the old tenants, broadcasters, getting upset.

“Innovation” is a loaded and multifaceted word, but, if unintended consequences are confined to a laboratory or code repository, designers of innovation rarely be held accountable for good-faith efforts which go awry or fail to deliver expected results.

But when a government gambles (remember the word: “gambles”) the wealth of its taxpayers on an unproven auction technology for a commodity citizens rely on but do not have specialist knowledge of, with undeniable benefits to special interests, and an outcome that falls billions of dollars short of every calculated expectation and uncalculated promise?

That is something entirely different. Something that deserves a closer look so taxpayers who funded the experiment know what went wrong.

In current social and political environments, a closer look is unlikely to arrive. So let’s put expected results aside.

What were the results? And how do those results compare to those which were promised?

Forward Auction Results

As of last month, 50 bidders committed bids for 2,776 licenses for total gross proceeds of $19,632,506,746. These are legally binding commitments, not checks in the mail.

The auctions lasted approximately nine months, and took four attempts (stages) to succeed. The definition of success is when the FCC + Treasury gather enough bid revenue from forward stagers to cover auction expenses, participating broadcaster compensation checks, a $1.75 billion repack fund, a few public programs, and various expenses. The Task Force named this break-even point the “Final Stage Rule.” Here’s a picture of the timeline.

*Note: 1.17.2017 is the date the FSR was met. Bidding continued til February 10th.

Initially, 99 bidders qualified to participate. By stage four, only 62 bidders remained, and 12 of them abstained, including Verizon and Sprint.

Who were the bidders? In terms of dollars spent:

You may object to binning bids in dollars instead of quantity of licenses won, also that this is a stupid pie chart, but excel was freezing up on me, and I have another visualization of bidding share by license count coming up in a future post.

The point here is only four bidders spent more than 87% of gross proceeds, and walked away with a bit more of the total licenses up for bid.

$19,632,506,746 in proceeds is a lot of money, but it’s revenue without costs.

From the $19.6 billion collected, $10 billion is drawn down and used to pay participating broadcasters to... lavishly retire? Then there are the costs of putting FCC attorneys and engineers to work for years. Then, $1.75 billion given to broadcasters who elected to stay in business and remain on the air to ease the burden of the virtual and physical relocation of transmitter infrastructure. (Except for LPTV stations, who receive nothing.) Finally there are a few important programs to receive a few hundred million.

All told, net proceeds from the auction will deposit $6 billion in the Treasury. These billions are per the Spectrum Act to be used for the purpose of deficit reduction, which virtually all sane U.S. citizens can agree is a good thing.

Result vs. Promised

$6 billion of deficit reduction is better than $0 billion, I guess.

Incentive auction revenues place it on the podium as the second largest spectrum auction in 21 years of spectrum auctioneering.

But a number six with nine zeroes after it should not be permitted to write over public perception.

The Commission, Treasury, and auction economists were all in consensus the incentive auction was sure to bring far and ludicrously north of $6 billion, especially after the legendary AWS-3 auction, and it was upon this consensus the auction was sold.

For its part, the Congressional Budget Office issued a formal response to request for clarification and risks raised by Nevada Congressman Dean Heller. The CBO letter claimed:

>“The Congressional Budget Office estimates that the net proceeds will probably be between $10 billion and $40 billion, with an expected value of $25 billion, the middle of that range.”

The CBO was not alone in its optimism.

Peter Cramton et al. penned this expert report, submitted to the Commission. He and his team at the University of Maryland reasoned:

>“The AWS-3 paired price of $2.72/MHzPop is a timely estimate of 600 MHz auction prices. This price implies forward auction revenues of $84.9 billion for the 126 MHz clearing target (10 blocks). There are good reasons to believe that revenues will be higher than $84.9 billion as a result of the better propagation characteristics of the 600 MHz band and the greater scarcity of low-band spectrum. The AWS-3 auction presents current market evidence that the 600 MHz auction will achieve revenues above $80 billion if 10 unimpaired blocks are auctioned.”

As I wrote in October of last year, after three clearing targets failed and the paired blocks + gap shrank to only 84 MHz to the fourth and final target, my quotation of Cramton here is not meant to skewer him personally, or his discipline. Cramton is a superb auction economist, perhaps among the best in the world, and he contributed meaningful insights intended to maximize the benefits of the auction to all stakeholders including the American People.

And like the CBO, he was not alone. 112 esteemed economists, including one Nobel Laureate, backed a letter to President Obama in support of the auction.

Even with these experts onboard, to sell the auction, the FCC went seersucker on broadcasters, who were understandably frumpy and confused about the idea. Mobile carriers needed assurance affordable contiguous license blocks would unlock. Non-contiguous blocks = no value for incumbent carriers. They also got the tech sector interested with database-controlled cognitive radios in unused “white space” TV channels. Google, Microsoft, Motorola, Qualcomm, and Broadcomm to name a few were interested, and submitted many comments and reconsiderations to ensure white spaces exist in all markets, and that WSDs operate in the guard bands and duplex gap.

Don’t get me started on wireless microphones.

Former Chairman Tom Wheeler was widely quoted as promising a “spectrum extravaganza” in sessions at CES 2016.

IDG’s NetworkWorld reports Wheeler said: “You're going to see lots of interest in selling the spectrum, and lots of interest in buying the spectrum."

>“Wheeler deflected questions about the financial implications of the auction, insisting that he's more interested in the transfer of spectrum it enables than the amount of money that changes hands,” continues NetworkWorld. “The best-case scenario for the auction is to see ‘lots of spectrum sold to lots of wireless carriers,’ Wheeler said. When asked what he sees as the worst-case scenario, Wheeler said it would be that ‘it all blows up and we're wrong.’ But he was quick to reiterate his confidence in the plan. ‘I'll go to the bookies here in Vegas and put my money down against that”

(psssst: gamble)

I hope I’ve made it clear $6 billion is underwater from even the most conservative predictions, by the most credible experts.

It caused the exchange of large sums of money for regional monopolies on the gridiron of wireless infrastructure - spectrum - between people and organizations numbering less than a few hundred - and the 600 MHz frequencies exchanged have a value to the many which is disproportionate to the value ascribed to it by the few who bought them. This has to do with physics, the impending dawn of 5G, and dynamics between the big four carriers who dominate mobile broadband in the United States.

Compare the promises to the results. They are not equivalent. Which makes this blog post from the Task Force after the conclusion a Rubik’s cube all its own:

>“Today marks the end of all clock phase bidding in the incentive auction. This is a noteworthy event for winning bidders and an appropriate moment to appreciate the auction’s success in using market forces to allocate spectrum to its highest and best use...With $19.6 billion in forward auction clock phase gross winning bids, the incentive auction will generate the second highest total proceeds of any Commission spectrum license auction in its 20-plus year history...The public stands to gain substantial economic benefits from mobile broadband utilizing the 84 megahertz of spectrum repurposed by this auction.”

I see the auction’s success in using “market forces to allocate spectrum to its highest and best use.” I do. That’s the brilliance.

But when the FCC via Task Force claims, “The public stands to gain substantial economic benefits from mobile broadband utilizing the 84 megahertz of spectrum repurposed by this auction,” this is loaded in many ways, and from my perspective, deeply untrue.

The FCC insulates itself by making this statement speculative, with the phrase “stands to gain.” The public may but will not necessarily gain. And so grammatically I cannot say it is untrue because no truth is asserted. Even so, I’m assuming this is a carefully worded and be-lawyered pat on the back for a job well done.

Let me be more precise in defining elements of discontent.

The brilliance of the incentive auction design and the magnificence of its execution is overshadowed by:

The sacrifice of the concept and actual decrease in/of public spectrum

Gross and disproportionate handouts to a small number of broadcast licensees who pocketed what is as close to free money as it comes, versus the disappointing sum deposited in the Treasury.

The limited utility for the mobile ecosystem of adding 70 MHz of 600 MHz spectrum to the portfolios of only two mobile carriers, with T-Mobile taking 45% of licenses nationwide

The sacrifice of the concept and actual decrease in/of public spectrum

What I mean by public spectrum is radio spectrum which is neither unlicensed nor owned or leased as property to private entities. It’s not held by the federal government under eminent domain or for military or other government use.

Public spectrum is set aside by a government for non-commercial or commercial-with-an-asterisk use to benefit everyone. The contents of its use are available and free to all citizens, and barriers to access are low or non-existent.

The contents’ purpose is education, entertainment, and/or emergency communications. The cost to consumers is free, free, and free. Even if my use of the term “public spectrum” isn’t exactly right, the VHF/UHF TV and radio broadcast bands are examples of this type of allocation whatever the terminology, and may be the last of them, which stretch back before the FCC was a thing, to the Radio Act of 1927, even as far back as Taft’s Radio Act of 1914. It is from the TV bands the incentive auctions took 40% of remaining public UHF spectrum, and auctioned it off as property to a pool of 50 bidders.

True, carriers are required to incorporate public safety messaging over their networks, under the Wireless Emergency Alert (WEA) initiative. The length and content of the message is limited both in size and type of information - text, photos and URLs, usually pure text - versus an uninterrupted stream of audiovisual information. You also need to own a cellular telephone and subscribe to service to get them. Not everyone owns a TV or radio, but those devices require no paid subscription for content, and are arguably easier to share than a cell phone.

Carriers are given grey lines on how to adhere to WEAs, but I can’t be sure about that, since the website for WEAs is vanished.

2) Gross and disproportionate handouts to a small number of broadcast licensees who pocketed what is as close to free money as it comes, versus the disappointing sum deposited in the Treasury.

Of the $19.6 billion raised, $10 billion is paid to participating broadcasters. This is a staggering ratio when you consider the Treasury - the bank for America’s 320 million citizens - is getting $4 billion less than 175 broadcasters. Many of the biggest payouts were swept off to holding companies or conglomerates like Sinclair Broadcasting, Pearl, NBC, FOX, etc.

Small commercial (and some public and educational) broadcasters participated too, but in all cases the check goes to the licensee(s). It is not distributed among the station’s employees, but to whomever or whatever legally holds the broadcast license. These licenses were originally awarded or assigned on a merit or lottery basis decades ago, free of charge.

Given only 175 stations were bought during the reverse auction at a much reduced clearing target, that $10 billion will be enjoyed by a privileged few.

When I first began wrapping my head around the incentive auction (it continues), four years ago, in order to explain their ramifications to the community of UHF wireless audio device users I used to blog for, I read an illuminating editorial by Harold Feld of Public Knowledge. Illuminating because of the clarity of his description of the auction, and the uniqueness of his position - that the incentive auction design as revealed was not a good thing.

I went through stages of alignment with Feld’s position over the years. Though I still don’t agree with all his ideas, I am indebted to Feld, who stands in the margins of telecommunications analysts, and against the grain.

3) The limited utility for the mobile ecosystem of adding 70 MHz of 600 MHz spectrum to the portfolios of only two mobile carriers, with T-Mobile taking 45% of licenses nationwide

All mobile carriers require spectrum to deliver service to customers.

Since radio spectrum of long, moderate, short, and very short wavelengths (inversely proportional to frequency) exhibit different physical behaviors, in order to remain competitive mobile carriers must hold strategically diversified “spectrum portfolios.” Different wavelengths are more or less useful for different applications, end-users, and operating environments, and the value of one wavelength or another changes over time according to handset and antenna technology, market forces, and whimsical beliefs.

In 2017, spectrum between 600-699 MHz is considered “low-band.” In the cellular/mobile industry it doesn’t get much lower than 600. Any lower, and the noise floor goes up, there are these crazies called HAMs whispering conspiracy theories on obsolete radios, and handsets get ridiculously large with clownish antennas. The wavelength of 650 MHz is about 18 inches.

Although someone got to calling UHF spectrum “beachfront spectrum,” by today’s standards and tomorrow’s predictions, 600 MHz is pretty lousy stuff for the cutting edge.

First, carriers cannot use 600 for the industry’s number one, two, and three priority today through 2020: small cell densification. Even at low powers, it’s hard to densify a network with small cells on low-band spectrum without multipath and intersymbol interference.

Second, the transitional bandplan for 600 MHz offers a 35 MHz uplink and downlink block for a total duplex pair bandwidth of 70 MHz. There is an unbreakable upper ceiling and correlation between the amount of available bandwidth and the amount of capacity - or information density - a network can modulate onto radio waves. For comparison, the 2.4 GHz ISM band, which is unlicensed and free-with-another-asterisk to use, has about 86 MHz of bandwidth depending on region and channelization.

So why did T-Mobile shell out $8 billion for 70 MHz of 600 again?

The simple answer is competition. The complicated answer is coverage (vs. capacity). Which is really about competition, too.

Prior to the auction, T-Mobile’s spectrum portfolio lacked low-band spectrum.

Low-band spectrum is not useless, not at all, it’s just not very useful for the “flexible mixed-use mobile broadband” and “5G forward” use-cases of the next generation of mobile connectivity in modern cities and suburbs the FCC brands it as. Unless you don’t have any low-band.

Large wavelength/low frequency spectrum is great for covering large areas of heterogenous terrain. It penetrates walls and windows with ease. This makes it valuable for both rural coverage, and urban coverage, but largely at the macro-cell scale. 600 and 700 MHz is able to cover more geographic area with the same amount of energy, using fewer base-stations. It’s more cost-effective in some situations, especially if the capacity demand on the network is low. If you don’t have low-band spectrum you cannot profitably reach rural customers, and you cannot easily handoff or maintain transmissions to/from a handset if the user goes indoors. If you are a mobile carrier and you don’t have any low-band spectrum, you can still provide spectacular quality of service to users, but in today’s monopolistic marketplace, where there are four and only four carriers, if any one of those carriers does not have a full spectrum portfolio including low-band they are at a disadvantage.

T-Mobile did not have much low-band, so they placed intelligent bets on 600. Every credible source I’ve heard from believes their investment will pay off.

T-Mobi - oh I’m sorry, why do I keep saying T-Mobile?

I should offer a more accurate portrait. I mean T-Mobile US, Inc, of which German behemoth Deutsche Telekom is controlling shareholder.

That’s right. All of those sexy models kicking and punching at nothing in the air while bold pink serif typeface flashes gigabyte offers across the screen?

German.

T-Mobile US, Inc. is its own entity, but it was Deutsche Telekom behind the incentive auction paddle, and it is Deutsche Telekom that enjoys a 9% discount on the Euro exchange rate when they shovel $7.993 billion into the FCC holding tank.

There are plenty of analysts out there who say “T-Mobile needs it [low-band] to survive.” There are others who see T-mobile-DT’s $8 billion exchange as a strategic bet to make T-Mobile US, Inc, a more desirable candidate for a mega-merger.

Of late, mega-mergers have stormed back into vogue.

Calculated strategy with the aim of mega-mergers may explain the opaque and expensive bids of Dish Networks, which bought almost as much 600 as T-Mobile-DT, for no obvious reason.

Tara Lachapelle of Bloomberg wrote an excellent article which asks the question “What in the world is Charlie Ergen thinking?” Lachapelle’s answer, to Ergen, CEO of Dish Networks:

>“Dish's stock took a beating earlier in the week amid investors' bewilderment. Some interpret the auction results as a sign that Dish may not be able to sell or lease the spectrum at a premium later on… But careful about betting against Ergen... I don't think Dish wants to build a wireless network so that it can go it alone, despite the company's interest in the possibilities of the "internet of things" (as detailed in a March filing). Let's be real, Ergen is building Dish for a major transaction. It's why he's hoarding valuable spectrum.”

Lachapelle also mentions the mobile carriers are setting their sights on 5G.

Yes, they are.

What Verizon and Sprint (and ATT in fact) did not pay for spectrum in the incentive auction, they doubled down on next generation R&D and infrastructure.

A few days after the results of the auction were released, Verizon announced a $1 billion supplier deal with Corning for 12 million miles of fiber optic cable annually for their “Fiber One Initiative,” which has been criticized. Around the same time, Verizon started a bidding war with ATT for Straight Path Communications which continues to rage. From Straightpath’s website:

>“Straight Path Communications is a forward thinking communications asset company. We specialize in maximizing the value of assets such as millimeter bandwidth licenses for 5G networks (Spectrum)”

The licenses of interest are contiguous 39 GHz millimeter wave licenses, which Straight Path may have bought in Auction 30 way back in the year 2000. Straight Path is not listed on the winning bidder summary. STPH may have bid under a pseudonym shell LLC (a common practice), or, hoovered up Winstar Communications which won most of the 39 GHz licenses, and went bankrupt in 2002. Even in 2002, think about it, 3G networks were all the rage, I was thirteen years old, the iPhone did not exist. In 2002, it was commercially impossible to create networks on frequencies that high, because no manufacturers made 39 GHz cellular hardware of any kind. Radio’s above 30 GHz were exceedingly rare, and non-commercial. They were found only in a handful of research laboratories, SATCOM, and the military complex. Even today, 39 GHz is very difficult to build cost-effective radios, processors, filters, and antennas for. Electrons become erratic and quantum electrodynamic-y when you push a waveform with a width of several millimeters into a radiating element to transform them into information carrying EM waves. Some of them disappear into another dimension, or whatever. Because of these physical hurdles, before 2016 39 GHz spectrum was had for a song - pennies on the dollar. Everyone knew mmWave could do something, for someone, someday, but it was only very recently that 1) engineers argued that mmWave spectrum is of commercial value, 2) the FCC proposed specific rules on mmWave to unlock commercial opportunity for 5G and other next generation wireless services.

Less than a year later, the two largest carriers are pushing Straight Path’s price up past a billion USD largely for mmWave spectrum that hasn’t been fully field tested for real, large networks.

T-Mobile has 39 GHz spectrum too. But they (DT I mean) just spent $8 billion on low-band to flesh out their portfolio. That’s $8 billion that won’t be going somewhere else, like 5G R&D, or rapid base-station roll-out on 600. T-Mobile isn’t stupid or slow, but their market-share and ~3 year battle to get ahold of low-band may mean they’re playing an increasingly hopeless game of catch-up in an industry that moves at slightly less than the speed of light in a vacuum.

ATT and Verizon together have 200 million customers in the U.S. The U.S. has a population north of 320 million people. Sprint and T-Mobile scrounge for the other ⅓. Both ATT and Verizon spent wads acquiring spectrum in the 700 MHz band almost ten years ago in 2008, and thus have had ten more years to play with low-band than T-Mobile.

The difference in propagation and capacity between 700 and 600 bands are insignificant. Antennas are a little bit shorter, maybe 700 travels less far through air and penetrates architectural material with less ease, but the difference is slight. We’re comparing apples to granny-smith apples. It’s UHF spectrum vs slightly lower UHF spectrum. There are no statistical destructive fading or intersymbol interference patterns in 600 that don’t exist in 700, or difficulty bouncing around inside the characteristic spatial distribution of foliated trees. There are no heavy spectral attenuation lines in either band. About the same quantity of spectrum and therefore available bandwidth exists in a 600 MHz sector as 700 MHz.

If Verizon and ATT want Straight Path so desperately for its portfolio of 39 GHz, we have at long last arrived at the final disgrace and mystery of the incentive auction outcome: mysterious bidders who showed up and disappeared with no intention of using the spectrum for tellecommunication whatsoever.

Who were they? What were they?

It’s very simple.

In the case of “Channel 51 License Co, LLC,” also known as “Channel 51, LLC,” the fifth largest spender at $858,704,549, their identity and ownership is explained by this chart:

Wait. Here we go:

There are two more scenarios in this deck, which I understand nothing about, except that “Channel 51, LLC” is an instrumental spore of the Australian Government Future Fund, a sovereign wealth fund managed by financial specialists placing investments for the benefit of the Australian people. http://www.futurefund.gov.au/investment To bid in the U.S. incentive auction the AFF pulled levers through Future Fund Investment Company No.5 Pty Ltd, formed to invest in US markets. The U.S. has sovereign wealth funds too, but there’s something offputting about a different country purchasing U.S. spectrum real estate it has no intention to use for telecommunications in the United States. I apologize to all of my Australian friends. Yes, your economy is gangbusters right now. This is still weird.

What about sixth place, Northwood Ventures? A private investment fund.

Northwood bid as “TSTAR 600,” and in a report on Northwood’s site they get to the point:

>“TSTAR 600, Jackson, MS, was formed to bid on and acquire radio frequency spectrum licenses in the 600 MHz band to be auctioned in the Forward Auction by the FCC in 2017.”

This is radical transparency compared to rampant smokescreens shielding identity and responsibility of the actors we see at last before us at the end of this long and complicated techno-econo-train.

If only everything - or even something - about the incentive auction was so transparently revealed, we might have stopped it from going off the rails, in the well-intentioned but ultimately drowned spirit of being the world’s “first.”

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