SMAD. An Organ of Student Opinion. 1936. Volume 7. Number 5.
Tennis
Tennis.
Mr. Plank had quite definite ideas about "Smad," but they availed him not. We quickly ran him to earth beneath a halo of cigarette ash and a chair in the Common Room. He was obviously uneasy and had that piteious "leme go, I've got an appointment" look about him.
"What's wrong now?" he quavered.
"Surely tennis isn't that bad?" said we, beaming seraphically on our victim. "Haven't we got a tennis team?" (Vague apprehensions.) "Are the McCarthys down with housemaid's knee or anything?"
"No, they're O.K." he whispered mournfully thinking of his appointment.
What can be done with an oyster's blood-brother? Yes, guile was the keynote.
"What about the other teams? A.U.C. have a strong team, one of the best for years. And what about Corich and Duffield of C.U.C.? Duffield won the singles last year, didn't he? These teams aren't going to accept the spoon out of sheer benevolence of spirit are they?" Allthis in the most dulcet tones. Our victim became heated beneath this infliction.
Bah! I don't euppose you've even seen any of our team practising. I think the McCarthys should account for Duffield in the singles. J. McCarthy and Miss Gerard (mixed doubles) have a good chance, also B. McCarthy and Marchant (men's doubles). Yes, the whole team'll give a good account of itself."
Here Mr. Plank began to sidel off, but we caught him gently round the neck and murmured sweetly in his ear.
"just a moment. Isn't it truethat the team is a trifle upset over the way the events are composed?"
"Grrh." (explosively). "They don't know what's good for them. Anyway, the committee is unanimous."
Mr. Plank now relapsed into vague cursings concerning "Smad" and recalcitrant tennis players in general. Clearly the oyster had closed again, so we flitted daintily away, just as Mr. Plank's appointmen came hurrying into view around the corner. Obviously it would have been mcuh better if we had sent our lady reporter to interview Mr. Plank.