<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Balls on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/balls/</link><description>Recent content in Balls on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sun, 02 Jul 2017 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/balls/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Team Punishment</title><link>/stories/2017/07/02/team-punishment/</link><pubDate>Sun, 02 Jul 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/07/02/team-punishment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It had been the mid state regionals, and we lost badly, I having about the best view of our embarrassing rout as I was the goal keeper that day. Many opposing teams would have held back once the game had been decided in the spirit of sportsmanship, but the Panthers and our own team had a rather long history with each other, as did our schools in general. The score was fifteen to three by the time it was all over and the referee mercifully blew his whistle, not all that terrible a score if the game had been college softball, but it wasn&amp;rsquo;t.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Lady Sally Blackrook: En Pointe!</title><link>/stories/2016/09/02/lady-sally-blackrook-en-pointe/</link><pubDate>Fri, 02 Sep 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/09/02/lady-sally-blackrook-en-pointe/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="ladysallyblackrook.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lady Sally Blackrook&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lady Sally Blackrook, Victorian Adventuress&lt;/strong&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;By Gincrack&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;a href="mailto:sigfortunata@gmail.com"&gt;sigfortunata@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lady Blackrook&amp;hellip; en pointe!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Forests of the Carpathian Mountains&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Urging his horses on the coach driver steered the carriage through the stygian darkness of the forest. There was still snow on the ground and the gibbous moon shining from a cold cloudless sky helped the driver to find his way, the light from the carriage lanterns being pale and ineffectual.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>