Vol. II · No. 428

Topspin Press

“All the Dinks Fit to Print”

“All the Dinks Fit to Print”
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Vol. II · No. 428Price: One Dink

Social MatchFriday Night Lights-Out Doubles

Rhys T. Rules Four Shots in the Dark ‘In, Probably’; Floodlight Declines to Confirm

Bea R. and Omar F. hold the lit half of Granite Ridge Park, 11–⁠6, as Calla J.’s glow-in-the-dark ordnance fails to glow.

Halftone: Art Desk. One piece of confetti for each of the 17 points played.

A board of inquiry will ask why Rhys T. kept hitting into the dark. At 2000 hours at Granite Ridge Park, with one working floodlight and an entire lit sector to aim at, he sent four consecutive balls into unlit territory and called every one of them ‘in, probably.’ Nobody could verify. That appeared to be the plan. It did not work. Bea R. and Omar F. took the only game of Friday Night Lights-Out Doubles, 11–⁠6.

The theater of operations was half a court. The floodlight covered the near side and a generous slice of one kitchen. Beyond that was rumor. Calla J. arrived with a sleeve of glow-in-the-dark balls, issued to the unit as a technological edge. In the field they were, at best, slightly visible. A witness on the next court called them ‘a suggestion of a ball.’ Another said he tracked one by sound alone.

Bea R. and Omar F. read the terrain. They kept everything low. They kept everything inside the light. They did not chase anything into the shadows, because nothing worth having was in the shadows. It was not brilliance. It was the discipline of two people who would like to see the ball. I respect it. Grudgingly. Omar F. reportedly told his partner, ‘If I can’t see it, it’s yours.’ The doctrine was never tested. Bea R. never let it get that far.

On the opposite flank, the line-call doctrine of Rhys T. deserves its own after-action report. ‘In, probably’ is not a call. It is a weather forecast. Sources close to the losing unit say Calla J. asked him, after the third, whether he had actually seen it land. He said he had seen it leave. Morale dipped. The fourth went the same way, into the same dark, with the same confidence.

Match point died in the unlit half and nobody went to look for it. The victors shook hands under the floodlight, where hands could be confirmed. A search party for the glow balls was organized, then disbanded. One was recovered. It was not glowing. Filed from Granite Ridge Park. Visibility poor. Out.

Hold the line. Preferably from behind it.

Editor’s note This was billed as a social match. Everyone involved was keeping score anyway.