#wait no oh my god millennial is spelled with two n's

[whydoihavetowearshoes]

it was brought to my attention by yu q. wilson that yo-yo's are just the millennial al version of fidget spinners and now i can't stop thinking about it

[shepherds-of-haven]

shIT WAIT how would all the characters text in a modern au? (i.e. grammatically perfect, no capitalizon, weird internet syntax, uses emojis like Egyptian hieroglyphs, etc) Please note: If Mimir doesn't text like Carrie Fisher used to tweet then I will cry.

MIMIR WOULD TEXT LIKE JADEN SMITH, 2013, HOW-ARE-MIRRORS-REAL-IF-OUR-EYES-AREN’T-REAL ERA. (I’m sorry if that makes you cry!)

MC: hey Mim, do you know the best place to get a sandwich around here?

Mimir: if there is bread winners, there is bread losers. but you can’t toast what isn’t real. 

MC: …

Blade would text very succinctly and business-like, often in one-word answers, perfect spelling but usually no capitalization (unless autocorrect was on his phone). Occasionally he would use an emoji if he was in a good mood, but he’d often use it wrong. (Like he would think 👀 is a startled stare or something.)

MC: hey, do you want to get lunch together?

Blade: yes.

MC: where do you want to eat?

Blade: the clover crown. I’m off at 12. 

MC: okay! see you then!

Blade: 🦈

Trouble would text with MASSIVE typos and weird abbreviations so that it would be almost indecipherable. He would also throw in random netspeak and slang.

MC: hey, I have a question

Trouble: u wot m8

MC: is it better to use a rifle or a handgun when dealing with imps?

Trouble: itd dpend on were ur aiming like the

MC: …just tell me in person

Tallys would text normally (good spelling and punctuation, no use of slang) but would take a really long fucking time to reply to you. Like she’d leave people on read constantly.

MC: Tallys I need help 

MC: Tallys 

MC: Shery just asked me what saltwort is for what do I do

MC: Tallys

MC: !!

MC: Hello?

[Two hours later]

Tallys: Sorry MC I saw this but forgot to reply. What did you need?

Shery would also text fairly normally (good spelling and whatnot, but fairly casual) but she’d be enamored with using the stickers that are popular on LINE and Kakao and not regular emojis. The ones that look like this:

Chase would text basically like a teenager/typical millennial with slang, abbreviations, and, yes, some hieroglyph-like emojis!

MC: hey, how are you feeling?

Chase: lol never better

MC: …what does that mean?

Chase: idk lmao

MC: aren’t you sick with the flu?

Chase: 🤷🤔

MC: …what’s going on?

Chase: maaaybe i got into some of tallys meds

MC: oh god

Chase: and maaaaybe some of them are not for the flu lmfao

MC: hallucinogenics or aphrodisiacs?

Chase: come over and find out? 😜

Chase: 🍆 

Chase: lol

MC: oh my god

Chase: tbh its a little of column a, a little of column b

Riel would text like one of those awful people who use extremely formal language, impeccable grammar and spelling, and only periods. The ones who always sound really cold and sort of mad at you all of the time. Basically like how Dwight Schrute would text.

Riel: It’s Shery’s birthday tomorrow. 

MC: Yes, and…?

Riel: I’m reminding you. 

MC: oh, okay. It’s in the courtyard, right?

Riel: Yes.

MC: Do we have the cake and streamers?

Riel: Halek made the cake. I need to buy the streamers.

MC: okay!

Riel: Unless you want to.

MC: do you need me to?

Riel: No. That was a joke. 

MC: okay… 

Riel: Good night. 

Halek would text fairly normally for a 20-something in terms of spelling and grammar, but would be pretty laconic in his responses, meaning he wouldn’t be very good with conversation over text.

MC: hey, how did your day go?

Halek: It went well. What about yours?

MC: It was pretty good! I killed 3 demons on patrol and didn’t get a scratch!

Halek: yay :)

MC: yay! 

Red would be a good texter in theory: attentive, funny, casual. But he’d be one of those texters who text in big fat blocks (used to be multi-page texts on Android) that could quickly become overwhelming and taxing to reply to.

Red: hey! I just saw this dog outside the compound and thought of you. I think Caine wants to tame it but it can smell the desperation, lol. How’s Ambryn? The last time I was there the streets were kind of on fire so I didn’t get to see it much. Also I thought this was kind of funny: [link to some relevant meme]

MC: [is too busy to reply to him] 

Ayla would text like an early 2000s T9 teenager:

MC: hey what are you doing right now?

Ayla: pwning some of the n00bz n the cortyard

MC: you’re wailing on the Shepherd recruits?

Ayla: ye roflmao

Lavinet would text like a basic bitch:

Lavinet: ugh my hair is a mess this morning 🤦‍♀️

MC: yeah that’ll happen when you get demon blood in it

Lavinet: i washed it tho!

Lavinet: admit tho that i rock that look

Lavinet: #aesthetic #hardcore #ombre

MC: Lavinet

Lavinet: #bringitbitch

Lavinet: ugh sorry we’re out of wine i need to dash for more byyyyeeee!! 💖💕💋

[hucc]

Hackney Umpires v Brixton Barbarians

The Gentrification Cup Final

Sunday 23rd June 2019, Millfields

Sorry to be a bit unimaginative but I thought I’d start this match report by talking about cricket.  Specifically Steve Harmison, the Ashington Express, and the 2005 Ashes, the defining cricket experience for anyone born too late for ’81 but before 1990.  And, almost inconceivably now, the 2005 Ashes was live on actual normal telly (note for people born after 1990 ‘normal telly’ means the 4 ‘terrestrial’ free-to-air channels and, grudgingly, channel 5).

Yeah, so Steve Harmison and 2005.  After a decade and more of utter domination by the Aussies the series begun unsurprisingly with them beating us at Lords, despite some signs of resistance. But instead of folding meekly in the second test at Edgbaston, England were fighting hard.  As the day 3 reached its close things were in the balance: Michael ‘Pup’ Clarke, the youthful blond-haired batting machine, was on 30, Warney at the other end on 20. Australia are 106 runs away from victory with three wickets remaining. It was exciting.  It was tense.  But we knew the Australians didn’t give a Castlemaine XXXX for the warm foam of our cricketing hopes.  So while we hoped, it was more the hope that we could keep on hoping for as long as possible until the inevitable calamity of defeat arrived.

I like Steve Harmison.  He didn’t sound much like a sportsman, he didn’t seem to have the single-minded flinty-eyed certainty that every Australian in the 2000s possessed. He seemed like a nice fella, but with the great skill of being 6’4” and letting go of the ball at 90mph.  The faster and the bouncier the better. And so, late on that 3rd day in Birmingham, with the light of my 2005 reminiscences turning a lush golden hue, the big man comes loping in from the boundary. He gets to the wicket.  He bowls.  It’s a useless full toss. Clarke readies to punch it away.  He flinches.  The stumps are broken. It wasn’t a useless full toss…it was a brilliant slower ball that totally fooled Michael Clarke. Pup is in the doghouse and we jump to our feet in celebration as the wicket brings the day’s play to a triumphant end, and sets up a nail biting finish that we win by just 2 runs on the way to a joyous series victory.  I don’t think I ever saw Steve Harmison bowl a slower ball before or after that. It appeared to be a perfect one-off.  The ultimate surprise, executed perfectly.

Why am I telling you about this?  Good question.  As ever with cricket there’s a fiddly bit involving a sequence of numbers to get us to where we need to be but there is a connection.  So we move forward 14 years to 2019 to find the Brixton Barbarians chasing down a lowly 138 for victory against the Hackney Umpires. 

Gary ‘Yesno’ Aubin,  after a year out probably due to disciplinary matters, is in the midst of an excellent spell of bowling, troubling the batsman with accuracy and surprising one-liners. But despite this and Kieran’s superb 7 overs 1 wicket for 19 runs Brixton are close, needing just 23 runs from 8 overs and they have 6 wickets left.

Dijon Malla the Brixton no5 has been the chief thorn in our side, compiling 40 runs, the highest score on either side on a pitch that was difficult to bat on. 

Gary comes loping in from the boundary.  He gets to the wicket.  He bowls to Malla.  The batsman’s eyes light up he swings.  He might have even had a chance to swing again such was the sheer lack of pace.  Slower ball! Deadly straight.  The ball hits the stumps and it is out. 

A slower ball, particularly a disguised slower ball, is not an easy thing.  I know because that’s my secret weapon delivery.  Just been hit for 6? No problem, run in harder and let it go with maximum arm swirling but as little effort as possible.  Doing that bit is fairly simple, it’s doing that and getting it on the right trajectory that’s the difference between the rankest filth and pure genius.  Gary Aubin take a bow, this was genius. In the blink of an eye 115 for 4 is suddenly 119 for 7 as left arm spin then accounts for 2 in two balls. And then, the same over, another stonewall LBW (happy 50th anniversary) right in front of the stumps, back pad, not playing a shot. So out that the appeal, although spontaneous and hearty, felt something like of a formality…oh, OK then... not out.  I mean it looked out to me is all I’ll say ,but on the other hand I have stood as umpire quite a few times and I can count the number of LBW decisions I’ve given on that self-same finger that gave the decision. 

If you live by the inscrutable shake of the head then sometimes the boot is on the other foot.  Mixed metaphors aside the point here is that Gary’s slower ball has unlocked the door, the collapse is on, 19 runs from 4 overs and just three wickets and that boot that was on the other foot is bearing down on that inscrutably shaking head like a metaphor out of control.

Earlier that day the Hackney Umpires, representing north London, were put in to bat on a warm and cloudy June day against the Brixton Barbarians, an unknown quantity from south of the Thames, in the so-called final of the Gentrification Cup, which I think was something someone said by mistake at our previous match and then we seemed to end up playing it.

First impressions count and my first impression of our team was: there’s only 9 of us.  My first impression of the opposition: why have they all got matching club kit, with squad numbers and their names on? Including a dedicated scorer!  Also with kit, number and name. 

The classic sign of gentrification did not take long to arrive: our skip in the skip, bowled by Denton for a disappointing 18 by one that he had no chance to defend.  Dave F was next. He struggled to time it on the pitch and the bowlers didn’t give him much.  Bowled Denton.  Matt Veal the Bournemouth Bulldozer in, then out, bowled Denton.  Ol changed things up, being bowled by Shaw, for a duck, bowled via glove and then box. Painful.  And so the architrave of our top order was ripped out and consigned to the dustbin of history thus revealing, somewhat prematurely, the startling original features of our middle order.

Dave Fawbert is often ahead of the curve.  A former A&R man he can spot the next trend quicker than even the most zietgeisty millennial.  So when Nostrafawbus turns to me and, with us being about 60-4 all clean bowled, and says: ‘well at least we haven’t had a run out’ it did set a bit of an alarm bell ringing.  That ringing swiftly transformed into the bell of Notre-Dame as the spark of Dave’s speculation took hold in the vaulted ceiling of our innings and Kieran hunched back towards us having been dismissed short of his ground amongst the burning ashes of a sorry collapse.

If Anthony and Dave F are the load-bearing wall of our batting.  The David Dawkins and Manny Hawks would be the party wall. Dawks and Hawks set off on a rebuilding mission, and though Manny played around a straight one, David top scored as the wickets continued to fall reaching 28 before he unerringly picked out the fielder at mid on. 

With 8 down and having run out of players the opposition took pity on us and offered to allow a batsman back in.  Ol’s pride, and other places, were sufficiently restored for him to retake the field.  He avoided a second duck and ended not out with a 20 run last wicket partnership.  In some ways it felt wrong to accept the invitation for a batsman who had been out to go again.  Wrong but helpful.  It could only be hoped that the cricketing gods, those cruel arbiters of fate, had already been satisfied with the run out and would not also single out Ol for some painful retribution at a time of their choosing. 

So 137 all out.  Bit crap but what can you do. Go out and bowl them out was the answer. And bang Ol was on it straight away taking out their opening.  Bang again at the start of his third over.  Only this time it was the sound of his hamstring.  And we were hamstrung without Ol’s hamstring, leaving us deprived of the club’s all-time leading wicket taker and effectively reduced to 6 fielders. Dave F made up for goading the cricket gods by single-handedly covering the entire leg side for long periods. Matt Veal troubled the batsmen but could not break through. Despite wickets by David, Manny and Kieran the Brixton middle order held firm. 

It is partnerships that hold the key in cricket and Brixton’s 4th and 5th wickets added 84 runs between them.  The Barbarians were now at the gates. 

But then as we know, the slower ball, the double wicket maiden, just 4 overs remain, 19 runs still needed the opposition scrabbling around for equipment, panic on. Could this be a famous victory for north London?

Another Harmison anecdote occurs to me now. As brilliant as that slower ball was, in some ways Harmy is much better known for another ball he bowled.  This one at the very start of the 2006 Ashes, the first ball six months on from that triumphant home series. The big man loped in at the Gabba, an expectant hush around the ground, that turned instantly to derision as he bowled what was officially dubbed the worst ball in history fielded by Freddie ‘Pedalo’ Flintoff at second slip setting the tone for a series that started badly and fell away from there.

But wait I need to finish this match report, enough of the Steve Harmison anecdotes. Where had I got to?  Oh yes, 19 runs with 4 overs to get them in.  Gary Aubin lopes in, an expectant hush…OK maybe you’ve guessed what’s coming.  If Ol had been able to bend over at slip then maybe he would have stopped it. I’m not sure it was the worst ball in HUCC history, but it certainly wasn’t the best. The ball scoots through slips and on to third man.  But with just 6 fielders there is no third man.  Matt Veal sprinting from mid on makes a valiant attempt to stop the thing but it trickles gently over the boundary for five wides.  15 runs in total from the over and well it wasn’t to be.  It would be harsh to blame the loss on that over.  Don’t get me wrong I’d like to try but it wouldn’t be right. Brixton played well, they simply bowled and batted better than us, took a couple of excellent catches had the top scoring batsman and the bowler with the best figures.  So let’s just remember the slower ball as the defining one yeah, just don’t get carried away Gary because I can re-edit this to focus more on the 5 wides.   

HUCC 137-9 29 overs (Extras 30, D Dawkins 28, K Kumaria 26)

BBCC 138-7 34.1 overs (M O’Brien 2/18)

Brixton Barbarians win by 3 wickets.  HUCC man of the match Gary ‘Harmy’ Aubin

Up the Umpires!