An old Chinese proverb says: “The 4 Cubes is a match of nine games, and in the end Brussels wins with 4-5”. When your reporter left the battlefield around eleven o’clock, Hasselt was comfortably leading 4-2 against Brussels. Confidently, I let my teammates finish the job. The first sentences of this report were already conceived in my car. Choices in abundance: “their tails between their legs”, “a depressing and long trip through the silent night back home”, “a howling wolf on a nearby hill in the light of the moon was their sole companion”, were some of the candidates.
The next day I received the shocking news: Brussels managed to win all three matches of the last round and clinched a certainly hard fought and by definition well deserved victory.
Brussels on top of the world, and Hasselt entering the realm of the Deepest Darkness. It’s still mathematically possible to retain the title. But this will be such a story of if this and if that and only when this and only when that, that it’s probably a waste of time to dissect all possible scenarios.
For Gent, the same nightmare Friday evening doomed. But no slippery slope at the shore of the Vaart. The fighters from Gent finished the job against Leuven in a most clinical way. After two rounds, victory was already assured with a 5-1 lead. “No prisoners!” was the device, and they went home with eight precious gems to present to their loved ones.
Sitting high on the Olympus, behind a table filled with exquisite garnish on the meat of a gnu and bottles of the finest wine and devilish beer, the players from Brugge watched these developments with a satisfied grin on their faces. Hiding outside in a dark corner – the street covered with snow in the freezing cold – your reporter had to dig deep in his purse to receive some extra information from a waiter. He whispered: “I could only read in their eyes: Everything according to plan” and disappeared in the silent street.
Next round: third week of June. Captains! At work!
— LP
