From the desk of Lord J. Granwall Chesterfield III, Duke of Earlwoodshire AND Earl of Dukewoodshire
To my fellow Dukes and Earls,
It would seem that over the last century or so, the colonies have made a rather boisterous spectacle over what was once a simple gully sport involving sticks and spheres (or “balls” as the Yanks call them… remarkable). When I was a boy, this pastime was one practiced merely by those who could not afford the rather costly effects required to play a dignified round of cricket.
When walking past such an engagement, I would dutifully raise my tunic ever so slightly, as to not sully my finely crafted garments with the muck irrevocably associated with the game’s rough and tumble play. I never thought that such a silly game would come to be known as a sport, and that the colonies that purvey it would become the world’s most powerful nation, carrying the influence of their divine mandate to play “Base-ball” as far as the orient, where even the Japanese now indulge in its seasonal festivities with great zeal. I remain bewildered as to this so-called sport’s popularity.
And yet, as I sit at my garden desk and feel the brisk winds of autumn breach the purported insulation of my hosiery, I am filled with an excitement for base-ball that I have nary felt. Our dear cousins in Boston, Massachusetts, the House of Chesterfield situated in Jamaica Plain, today rejoice in the victory of their Boston Red Sox against their opponents, the undoubtedly French “Cardinals,” hailing from the St. Louis settlement in the vast American South. In a riveting six-game array (played without a single tea break, mind you), the rugged “Red Sox [sic]” came away with four victories to win the international title of “Best in Base-ball playing,” or something of the like. A man from the Spanish colonies in the southern New World named David Ortiz was knighted with the grand honor of “Most Venerable Performer,” and his peer John of the house Lackey was granted an honorable mention for bowling a most precise sequence of googlies, tallying wicket upon wicket until the contest was won.
It has truly been a season of newfound interests, exciting Base-ball matches, and large, disposable goblets of a most foul ale that has both the appearance and the taste of dehydrated urine. Dare I say, I predict no spectacle of cricket, lawn tennis, nor croquet will rise to the intensity I have witnessed in these past days. To my compatriots in Boston, my sincere congratulations. And to my cousin Reginald, my sincere gratitude for this most smashing hat, which shall adorn my wig and crown whenever I truly wish to feel as a “baller” feels.
Yours in championship,
J. G. Chesterfield III
You probably know better than Mr. Chesterfield. Show your #BostonStrong pride.