Spawning

I was only there one night and one day, so I will leave the re-cap of Day One to Someone Else. For the Time Being, Sunday (and Saturday night, too):

Saturday Night:

• Fireball is Acquired.
• Most opt out of going to the party. Although it is warm at the Senior Center, the real Action is at the fields at the Coltrane Camp Site. (Besides, the HeShe is there in a skirt. Not that there's Anything Wrong with That.)
  
• Kings at the Campground produces the following Rules: No Swearing; No Pointing; Remove the Little Man from the Lip of Your Cup before Proceeding; No Proper Names.
• Nudity Ensues. Party Eric, who is quickly learning how to make a Coltrane Gathering Exciting, removes his Garb first.
  
• Brent, Tony, PT, and Mimi follow Shortly Thereafter.
• There is much Uncomfortable Group Hugging.
• Later, there is Group Inviltrating of Tents. It begins in EZ's Tent. His Sleeping Bag will Never Be the Same after all the... Rubbing.
  
• They make an Appearance in the Aber & Fitch tent as well. Mind you that Every Rose Has It's Thorn. And I will Scream Bloody Murder when Covered in Three Naked Bodies regardless of the Hour.
  
• I hear they get Zipped inside Someone's Tent, and are Stuck there like Sardines, Unable to Get Out. This is Very Funny. Even After the Fact.
  
• I hear they Enter an Unidentified Tent, only to Almost Get Their Asses Kicked.
  

Sunday:

• First Game at Eleven. Sweet Sleep.
  
• Monica is not Hung Over, but Everyone Else Is.
• We Play Hard, but can't quite Make It Happen:
  
• Despite being a Far-Better Looking Team, Bush Pilot beats us. By Two or Three. It Was Fairly Upsetting. They are not a very Spirited Bunch. But we prevail with the Moral Victory.
• In a Consolation Game, we lose to Pocket Aces, also Not as Good-Looking as Coltrane. Some Sweet Playing, though.
• Kudos to Chris, John, and Steve for Sweet Lay-Outs.
  
• The day ends with Patron and Yet Another round of Love Supreme.
• Also: swimming in the River, Men's and Women's EEC Finals, and Of Course, dinner at El Gitano, where Our Personal Singer Wipes Away the tears from his Eyes as he Makes Love (Metaphorically) to his Tiny Guitar.