Crud had its beginnings on the beaches of Portugal, before Solid could talk. That was when I carved my first bat, out of a piece of driftwood, using a hand drill. It’s hanging now, in the Crud Museum. At that time, it was exclusively a volleying game, since the ball didn’t bounce on the sand. The essence of the game then, its only purpose, was to keep the ball in the air. The longer it stayed afloat, the stiller the mind became, the greater the sense of harmony.

There’s nothing wrong with evolution, though.

My Crude bat has been hung up; but by all means play on, those who wish. I might have a go at Crude Lite, but essentially, fron now on, I’m a Crudman.