reviewed by Lumpy Kustud and Dim Parcio
10 March 2019
Lumpy Kustud: Ah, Blackpool! The annual pilgrimage! The ritual of a weekend on the Lancashire Riviera in March with the rain bucketing down, the Mistral howling along the Promenade fit to blow you over and the sea-spray enough to go pit-pat-splosh-CRASH against the windows of the hotels on the other side the Prom. Quel plaisir!
Dim Parcio: Ok, Saesneg, so you don’t think much of the place. As a Welshman I agree with you. But you shouldn’t run it down – it’s part of your own seisnig country. Where’s your patriotism?
Lumpy: It’s not my country. It’s Lancashire.
Dim Parcio: Ynfytyn! But what about the chess?
Lumpy: Ah yes, the chess! Well there were lots of people there – nearly 400. There were the Troglodytes down in the dungeons; there were the lucky ones on the ground floor and there were some reputed to be somewhere hidden away upstairs like embarrassing grandparents.
Dim Parcio: Yes, yes, but what about the Limewood players?
Lumpy: Well there only 3 of them this year and they were all in the lowest section, the Standard. It seemed a bit disorganised at the start – didn’t help that the Standard tables were all labelled ‘Median’. But they were on the groundfloor this year. That was a boost. It was the Minors who were down in Le Voreux.
Dim Parcio: Stop showing off! I’ve read ‘Germinal’ as well. But get to the blydi point, twll tin, how did the Limewooders fare?
Lumpy: Well between them they scored something in every round. Even if it was only a halfpoint bye. Barry was our top scorer. He won 2 games. The others got 5 halfpoints between them – and 2 of those were from playing each other.
Dim Parcio: Is that all you have to say?
Dim Parcio: Did I ever tell you I got a fellow Welshman out of jail?
Dim Parcio: I sprung a Leek.
Dim Parcio: Cer i graffu.