No Rest for the Wicket

We held annual 800-CEO-READ summer picnic/croquet tournament yesterday. As we do every year, we all gathered at Jack's house. Being good Wisconsinites, we grill up some meat in tube form and fresh corn, grab a drink and settle into the back yard. Being 800-CEO-READ, it doesn't stay settle for very long. When the croquet mallets come out of the garage, things start getting cutthroat. This year, we had 20 entrants in the tournament.

We had two rounds of six players, and one round of eight. The top two in each field got the privilege of playing in the championship with a new croquet set.

The championship was a wild affair, with a baby forcing one player from the match and two others abandoning the course to chase down the leaders and launch their balls to the far reaches of the yard. In the end, it looked something like this.

But at the very end, it was this fellow—the one with the cigarette dangling out of his mouth and the beer in his hand, the man who came into the contest with a bulging disk in his back—that won it all.

Here are a few more pictures from the day.