Slippery roads, slippery services and an abundance of powdered sugar

On Sunday, January 4th, 36 members of TTV Stiphout decided that slippery, snowy roads were no reason to stay home. For the club's most prestigious tournament, the Olieboltoernooi (Oilball Tournament), they braved snow, ice, and potentially angry partners without mercy. Some arrived later than planned—purely for safety reasons, of course—others presumably because they also needed a New Year's reception.

This year's tournament was run by Joris and Jasper, who took their roles so seriously that they even hired a personal waiter. This waiter ensured that important decisions never had to be made soberly. Professional? Absolutely. Objective? We won't comment on that.

The game was played in a best-of-three format, meaning there was hardly any time to warm up, but plenty of time to explain afterward that "that one netball really changed everything." After an impressive run of games, four undefeated players remained. The inexorable "fate"—which often seems to know what it's doing—paired Ben with Tomislav (again, last year's final, coincidences exist?) and Bastiaan with Arthur. This led to a final between Bastiaan and Ben, which Ben ultimately won. There were regularly magnificent rallies to admire, interspersed with sighs and headshakes, but without any cursing, as referee Mike Raijmakers had expressly forbidden it!

Meanwhile, the inner man was well taken care of. Carla and Sandra baked such high-quality oliebollen (Dutch doughnuts) that some players skipped their warm-up entirely, just to make sure they didn't miss a thing. Regular oliebollen, raisin doughnuts, and even savory ham-and-leek oliebollen: table tennis was occasionally a sideshow. Walter kept the bar running and made sure no one got dehydrated—a task he performed with visible enjoyment. Towards the end of the tournament, tasty snacks were also provided, in case anyone wasn't quite full yet.

After the tournament, there was an opportunity to shower—which some gratefully accepted and others certainly appreciated—and to exchange best wishes, as the New Year's reception began. Non-participants also found their way to the canteen, creating a pleasantly lively atmosphere. Around 5:00 PM, William raised a glass (with bubbles, because it's still a party) and expressed his hope for another wonderful year full of activities after the 2025 anniversary year. After all, activities create connection—and stories that we'll talk about again next year.

Frenklin then honored the championship teams: TLE 1 (Ario, Chris, Daan, Paul, Roger, and Roland) and NTTB team 7 (Anne, John, Marieke, and Martijn). They could choose between a beer package, a bottle of wine, or a bag of candy. It was a choice that no one visibly struggled with.

Then came the highlight: who would be crowned Oliebol of the Year? No complicated Excel spreadsheets this time, but purely based on the requested matches. As Joris pointed out: many exciting matches, so little real challenge. The prize therefore went to the one who had the greatest challenge—and proved it conclusively by scoring only 9 points in two games.

Ivo van der Hoeven was thus declared Oliebol of the Year and was ceremonially blessed with a can of powdered sugar, making him virtually impossible to miss due to his (even) grayer hair. Special thanks to Bastiaan, who, as the loser of the final, sportingly helped vacuum up the sugar. Teamwork.

Then came the jubilarians:

· Ryan received the coveted TTV Stiphout water bottle for his 5-year membership.

Henri van Lieshout received a towel for his 12.5 years of membership, which is useful for both sporting and emotional moments.

Ton Willems was honored for his 50 years of membership and received a gift certificate of his choice—after all, after 50 years, you have such a high status that you can decide for yourself.

Finally, Dorethé van Uden was appointed a Member of Merit for her years of dedication as youth competition secretary and cleaning coordinator. A funny detail: Dorethé thought she was being honored for her 50th anniversary, but that turns out to be next year. Oh well, a dress rehearsal never hurts.

After all these official moments, the atmosphere at Stiphouse remained restless for a long time, after which everyone, very cautiously—and slightly weighed down by oliebollen—headed home. Conclusion: slippery roads, sharp rallies, lots of laughter, and powdered sugar in places where it shouldn't be. An Oliebol tournament as it should be.