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Sunday, 9 September 2012

Colours 2012: A Brace Of Show Days

So, Colours 20112.  Once again, I duck out of commenting on the show in detail, as I didn't really see it despite being there on both days.  I'm not quite sure how this happened, and console myself with the fact that this meant my show expenditure was precisely £0.00.  

To be precise,  Saturday saw us arrive, set-up and immediately stuck into the first of three Charlie Don't Surf games.  Our players soon got into the spirit of the setting, and picked the rules up quickly.  The youngest player was about 8 or 9 years, and he managed to maintain his concetration for an hour, before hunger/thirst got the better of him.  To the best of my recollection, everyone who played was new to Too fat Lardies rules, with the exception of Ashley, one of the many correspondents on the Too Fat Lardies Yahoo group.  Once again, it was fantastic to meet and put a face to another member of the Yahoo group, who seemed to have a pretty good time playing Charlie for the first time; getting the only total US victory of the weekend may well have helped, alongside the US players humming Ride Of The Valkyries every time a 'copter-related chip was played (once again, Ashley, I apologise for the lack of AFVs in the game)!

Having ensured all the toys were secure and safe for the night, I sashayed off for an an excellent T-bone steak, washed down with a rather nifty Rioja.  This ensured that even if I didn't sleep the sleep of the just, I would at least sleep the sleep of those with access to expensive lawyers.

Sunday saw two games, in which players went the whole nine yards (ie played right through to an absolute conclusion).  Game one saw pretty much every possible event occur- ammo shortages, CASEVAC, booby-traps, snipers, the works- as well as learning what happens when a gunship unloads all of its amoo in one fell swoop.  Game two saw some unexpected and hilarious friction occur between Company Commander Dad and his Platoon Commander sons; Dad had his eye on the mission objective, but the Sons were more concerned with protecting their men- 

"You realise you'll be court-martialled if you don't order your men to enter the hooch?"

"I don't care; I'm not leaving my other squad in front of that MG bunker in the open!"

Ah, the parent-child dynamic.

I do have some memories of what was going on around us, though.  There was a mighty (and impressive) zombie-infested city to our right, and back and to the left* was a corking A Very British Civil War game, in which Canadian-supported Albertine forces were having a crack at the BUF (I think they also won a show prize, and rightly so).  Food for thought, as AWC are considering AVBCW as a future club campaign.  

**Though not on a grassy knoll.

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