By Ralph Scoville

In the world of sport, the hat trick is the mark of a great performance by an individual athlete.  It is rarely achieved.  Rarer still, but not as desired, is the Golden Sombrero in baseball, signifying individual lack of performance.  But for all these achievements, the rarer-est is the cherished Yarmulke Trick.  This is when a Jewish member of the Morris Tribe scores more than once in a game.  As it occurred at the conclusion of the observance of Rosh Hashanah, could this event mark the advent of offense coming to the scoring challenged Morris Masters?

The day began unlike any other at Randall’s Island.  With weathermen being wrong again about the effect of a hurricane on the tri-state area, it was not rainy or windy, or unseasonably cold, it was actually . . . . pleasant.

The Palooza format worked perfectly.  With no team able to man a full side, it was NYC vs. the Suburbs, as the Gentlemen of NY would partner with the Village Lions, and Morris would join with Long Island.  The balance would continue throughout the game, with the 2 sides playing end-to-end for (3) 20 minute periods.

The urbanites would score quicker than Donald Trump can say something YUGE (or stoopid, depending on your perspective), slicing through a gap in the Morris backline to open up a quick 5-0 lead.  Late in the first Costanza, Vincent from a French town would retrieve his own kick and sprint down the sidelines for a try. . .  or so we thought.  The Pommy ref, with hundreds of years of anti-French vitriol instilled in his very soul, would rule that Vincent had instead knocked on.  Instead of 5, we were awarded a Gaulic naught.

But redemption was coming, as the Morris scrum would power as one into the try zone and Jeff GREEEEEEEsack would dot it down to tie the score.

NYC would score again in the 2nd and early in the 3rd to open up a 17-5 advantage.  Our heroes in Red would again get within man-flu distance of the try zone.  Again Jeff would power his way through the defense to schmear it down for his 2nd try of the afternoon.  With the conversion, we closed the gap to 17-12 and were driving again, but could not seal the deal.  Thus the game endeth.

After some cleansing ale and knoshes pitchside, with Mother Nature supplying some gentle drops to cool us off, we would retire to Houlithorns for some Vitamin F.  Although the Stumpfs came by Maserati, the powerful engine could not get there faster than Cal when a Fireball Manhattan is at stake.  ChaCha also arranged for a special guest lecturer to attend.  He and the Mayor would debate the merits of Rugby Union vs. Rugby League, and what the anticipated signing of boy wunderkind Tyrone Taukamo would mean to the GREAT Greg Inglis.

Our athletic endeavours done for the week, we can now return to the more dangerous work of the real world . .  just ask Long Island Ralph the next time you see him.