I got out my somewhat new backgammon dice cups the other day for a friendly game, if any activity involving dice and betting can ever truly be friendly. The cups are new in the sense that I had never used them, though they have been sitting around the house for some time. You see, a lady named Sarah, who was inadvertently the MD of W. S. Foster & Son for a while, resurrected my interest in the game (she was, and no doubt still is, a backgammon shark in a very nice but very literal sense of the word) and when I pulled out my decades old board the bottoms of the cups were worn through. Imagine my surprise when I learned that a new set of comparable quality was a couple thousand dollars. Fortunately, Sarah volunteered her firm to make me replacement cups and after quite a long wait and only somewhat less money than the cost of a new board I had lovely new ones and new dice to go with them.
So I have begun playing again, though with nothing approaching the 24/7 enthusiasm of my youth. The unfortunate part of the story is that by the time the cups did arrive Sarah had fallen in love and stopped travelling with Foster's, who will be arriving the first week of November. As consolation they should be bringing a pair of shoes.
Photo: W. S. Foster & Son