A pre-festivities sharpener of Mornington Crescent?

[MarkWithaC]

Unfortunately I was absent for the thrilling climax to the game yesterday, and offer belated congratulations to LlynTegid. It's not often you see that move deployed with such laser-like accuracy.
A last hurrah before we all disperse for our traditional mid-winter break? (I'm for the Canaries this year with the curate and his new-ish special friend, a dear young man).
I'll start us off with a good invigorating Hudson's Cast: Goodge Street.

Oh, bravo! Nice move. Was that the Chevening Goose or the Converse Lingonberry?

Yes, such happy times in the company of the Duchess. That summer of 96 was exquisite, although she was so naughty, wasn’t she? I shall never look a bread and butter pudding in the same way again.

Speaking of which…

Brockley

You’re familiar with the Converse Lingonberry? You are clearly used to playing at the very highest levels, EmmaOvary. Indeed, wasn’t it you who clinched 1996’s final game on the riviera with that daring obverse plunge to Embankment? I didn’t recognise you without your signature monocle and wetsuit.

Balham

It was indeed. I thought all that had been forgotten! My wetsuit days are long gone, and I favour opera glasses to a monocle these days…

Victoria

Forgotten? Au contraire. Many of the finest moments of historic games such as that one are forever etched in my memory. Indeed, as I recall, that particular move often features in the MC Gazette’s readers’ poll of the 10 greatest moves of all time.

Stockwell

That move is definitely up there. It's not universally loved, though; I casually mentioned it once at a summer gathering in Honiton and the hostess (you may well know her; I shan't name names but will just say 'poodles and an unruly lilac') spoke to me most unkindly for the rest of the afternoon. And the room allocated to me for the night rather suddenly became (apparently) uninhabitable, I was never quie able to get to the bottom of the reasoning.

I think Victoria in that aspect allows us to invoke the Hanover Rule, so I can quite confidently say Wanstead.

The Hanover rule to my knowledge has never been previously played on a Friday. I need to play the former rail lines rule to get out of this quandary and then the Elizabeth line rule to get to Stratford.

I was not invited to the Honiton gathering, perhaps because of being a cat lover, which would not have gone down well with the said poodles.

And on we go. A swift Worthington to

Battersea Power Station

To be quite honest, Honiton was always somewhat stressful; if it wasn't the dogs it was next-door's gardener's assistant.

An obtuse to Mile End.

I rather enjoyed Honiton, partly, if truth were told, because of next door’s gardener’s assistant. Ah, memories.

A Werther’s Loop to Caledonian Road.

He was an, ahem, athletic lad, as I recall, and very much at home on the potting bench. But to spare DuckOnABike’s blushes, we shall move swiftly on to

Kilburn Park

Bags of compost feature heavily in the stories too. And a greenhouse door that seemed to jam at the most arbitrary intervals.

But yes, moving on, Upminster (using a hanging Chesterbow).

Ah, the greenhouse door. Does anyone remember the incident with the Scottie dog and the Marchioness’s macramé? Wool
for miles, and gossip for longer. They don’t make them like that anymore.

A Polyp down to

Warwick Avenue

Ah, macramé. I recall the Marchioness tried to set up an evening class, for those who had been eliminated from the MC championships and therefore had a great deal of time (and crème de menthe) on their hands. It didn’t go well.

Kensington Olympia

Hurtling towards the big day and time for midnight mass. I like to go to St Mary's on Holly Hill, where my parents were married and I was baptised. So, Hampstead.

It is fitting we should have an ecclesiastical slant on Christmas Eve. Therefore, a southern divergent to

St Paul’s

Merry Christmas one and all!

Angel

And a merry Christmas to you, DuckOnABike!

I trust everyone enjoyed yesterday’s festivities. The Colonel and I spent it with the Dowager Duchess at the castle. It was most convivial, albeit cold; the young heir’s debts meant the heating was turned off. The family were putting a brave face on it, saying it was because of his, ahem, medicinal habits but we all know he ran up those debts in an extremely louche MC bar behind Kings Cross station.

Pudding Mill Lane

Bow Road. Not too far to move given the effects of lots of food.

I’ve never tried this before, but I think it’s worth a shot:

Colliers Wood

Hello all. I hope and trust we’ve all had/are having a good festive season?
Still billeted in the guest suite here in the Canaries. There was a mildly awkward moment when I was out on my habitual morning constitutional and deep in thought about the 2024 MC Updates List (the new Hammersmith rule in particular). I took a wrong turn round the bird bath, found myself hard up against the master bedroom French doors and, suffice it to say, for a day or so I was not quite able to look the curate and his friend in the eye.
But we rise above it!
White City (latitudinal)

I was told of the 1934 tournament, the first after the extensions of the Piccadilly line which brought a whole new dimension to the game. There was someone who had booked to be on the Queen Mary on a cruise, who wanted to join the tournament, and asked if their moves and the others could be communicated via Morse Code. Needless to say the Colonel's grandfather, who was the host, would have nothing to do with such a ruse.

Perivale

I’m jolly glad to hear it, Llyn. Not in the spirit of the game, in my opinion. Although I do remember an enjoyable game conducted via semaphore during the Oxford/Cambridge boat race in 1987.

And thanks for the reminder, Mark. I shall be steering well clear of the H & C line until I’ve got to grips with the update.

Mile End

Baker Street. Again inspired by tales of the 1934 tournament, which if they’re to be believed witnessed an Inverse Dakota of such audacity that a few of the more sensitive spectators required smelling salts and the fainting couch.

The fainting couch has played a crucial role in the history of the game of games, but it has since been relegated to the lumber room in the less-frequented wing of the chateau. After that unfortunate business in Wendover with the Professor, the lady harpist and the kumquats, the upholstery was damaged beyond repair.

Holborn