Author: James Swafford
Date: 20:18:47 10/23/01
I haven't looked at this in some time, but it always makes me laugh when I do. It's a poem Will wrote in June 99 about Lambchop's performance in the WCCC. Enjoy! ========================== Start Will's Classic Here ========================== It came from Down Under, a mysterious land, with evil dark swamps, and shifting quicksand. A Wizard, it's said, has taught it the game, borne of lightning and fire: Lamb Chop was it's name! The crowd was aghast, they trembled and shook. Just incredible play, and such a small book! It pounced on P.Conners (which started the fame). No mercy for Eugen, wasn't even a game. What could it do more? Now came Round Four. The pairing were posted, the players they peered, please not LambChop, oh no! the Chopster they feared. The task fell to DarkThought, Ernst cried "For God's Sake!" What can I do now, what will save me this fate? This tactical monster will slay me for sure; I must try a gambit, the Rasa-Studier! So it was played, and two pawns did Chop grab, while DarkThought thought sagely, now you've been had. But try as it might, DT couldn't break through, and so took the knight, a mistake it would rue. Now Chop was on top, and ready to claw, but DT got lucky, and salvaged a draw. As the Alpha cooled down, the crowd milled around, and congratulated Ernst; he hadn't gone down. But now comes Round Five, and the pairings await. Who will be next, to meet his dark fate? -- James
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