Wicket Warfare

Skillmans are mad about Croquet.  Actually, let me clarify that.  Skillmans are mad about the notion of Croquet.  Many a summer night you'll find us out on the lawn dueling it out with our mallets.  However, our family's version of the game does not come from any part of the official rulebook.  It is a bastardized version that would surely offend my poor British ancestors who would have pictured a more relaxing and lovely afternoon-with-tea-and-crumpets sort of game much like this one:

That is not, however, how we play the game.  After our first and only venture setting up an OFFICIAL croquet lawn in the prescribed manner we quickly decided it needed some serious Americanizing/Skillmanizing.  In our version there is no such thing as out of bounds.  We spread the wickets (Brits call them hoops) throughout our sprawling lawn more like a game of golf, taking particular care to plunge said wickets in any and all hazards that might severely hinder a "striker": namely rocks, slopes, and delicate garden flowers.  Basically, as the game progresses things get heated, grudges brew, and mallets get broken;  it's your basic family bonding activity.

The favored game tactic is the "Aunt Emma".  Which is basically when a player appears more concerned with hindering their opponent from making progress rather than trying to progress themselves.  According to the rulebook this dulls the game.  Obviously the rule-makers have never seen the Skillman version of an Aunt Emma.

Each year we go through 3 to 4 croquet sets.  They just don't seem to make mallets sturdy enough to handle our particular variation of the game.  But last year, we were thrilled when we discovered that the latest "replacement" set we bought contained STURDY wickets that were sure to last forever!

They don't look like much in this photo, but they are really thick and totally unbendable.

However...there is one drawback to them.

Today the boys were looking for something to do.  It's Spring Break and unexpectedly, the weather outside is, well, surprisingly springlike.  These bored boys, as in mine, an unnamed cousin, and yet another unnamed friend came over and decided it was warm enough to crack open the croquet set.

But, as Skillman Croquet usually does, things soon took a decidedly wretched turn for the worse.  After a while all of the boys all came into the house laughing.  All of them except for one.

When I peeked outside to see where the missing boy was, I found Connor like this...

(Click on the image and take a good look)

Apparently this is what happens when you get caught cheating.  I'm calling it "The Lawn Lock".

With a game where tempers tend to flare,  perhaps really solid wickets aren't the best idea after all.