Monday 13 July 2009

Cup a load of this…

Hello. What you all do over the weekend? The other Map Twats got drunk and abused me, and my indie icons, in foul terms.

I was at the Much Wenlock Olympian Games. It's a funny mix of comedy sports, children's events, and high-level fixtures, as my fencing match was. Outside was the Vintage Bicycle Race, inside was a decent event attracting quite a few international-level fencers! It's just a shame that the Women's Pig-Chasing event was phased out a few decades back. Surely, that should be an Olympic sport again? The Games were set up by the local doctor, who also founded schools, organised clean water, got the railway line extended to the village, and generally did everything he could to turn what was a slum into a model village (and now an incredibly expensive place to live). There is something hugely inspiring about seeing hundreds of people joining in, competing, working, or just visiting, an event that could so easily have died or been spoiled by commercialisation. The sun shone, we all worked hard, and there was a general sense of perfection. Then I went back to Wolverhampton and to feuds, litterers and atomised selfishness.

So anyway, I spent Saturday helping to set it up, was in the hall at the crack of dawn working again, and finally got to do some fencing some hours later. Thanks to some pure dumb luck, I managed to narrowly beat a couple of really good fencers, including a Cadet (youth) GBR lad and got a decent seeding of 6th. My first direct elimination fight was against the coach I sacked from my university squad a few years back, so there was a little tension. He's a recent veteran Sabre world champion, so he's pretty good, but I again scraped past him 15-14, having been 6-2 up at one point. Pure luck: his last hit missed and I timed my riposte well.

Then my luck ran out - in the quarter-finals I lost to an Army guy, Max Weedon, who had brilliant timing and telescopic arms. My awkward tricks got me a few points, but it was utterly one-sided. There were a couple of consolations though - he won the event, and he's a very nice guy, so it's impossible to be bitter. I came 5th overall and won this trophy (third time) for the best Shropshire fencer - then got on with taking the competition down, which with all the aches and pains, was far less pleasant than setting everything up.

One of these photos is from Wolverhampton. You decide which…


13 comments:

Lou said...

Wow congrats with the fencing. Sounds like a cool weekend. I googled the village - looks amazing.

Benjamin Judge said...

Now that is a handsome trophy, good work there. Are you from Shropshire though? Stoke is in Staffordshire you know and Ireland in, well, Ireland. Does this make you the Tony Cascarino of fencing?

I'm afraid the pictoral quiz is a bit too easy. The key words 'homemade' and 'salad' really are pretty big giveaways that we aren't in Wolverhampton anymore.

By the way, the comparisson to Tony Cascarino is purely one of qualification rules. I certainly wouldn't want to cause offense by your thinking I was making any comparissons in regard to sporting ability or personality where obviously you are the better man.

Did you get to keep the trophy having won it three times?

Some Chilean Woman said...

Sounds like a great time. I bet you're tired though.

Pigs are my favorite animal, I so would chase.

The Plashing Vole said...

Family home (since 1985) is on the border - technically in Staffordshire but postal address is Shropshire, and I've been a Shrewsbury FC member since 1999. Unfortunately, I don't get to keep the cup - or even any other kind of memento. My name gets engraved on it though.

You're wrong about the menu photo though: I thought the spelling of lager as 'larger' might give it away.

SCW: I like pigs and ducks (the latter because they're so argumentative and bad-tempered).

I'm exhausted. Just been for a swim and everything aches.

Dan said...

A Shrewsbury FC member? Good luck with that. Hope you enjoyed some of our offerings last season. We might just be needing them back this season.

The Plashing Vole said...

Shrewsbury Fencing Club, sorry. I support Stoke City at football.

Dan said...

Oh, I feel like a dunce now. Apologies. I wondered why you'd do such a thing when I already knew you were a fan of the punt it and chase game. I'm not bitter.

saxon said...

I just think it's lovely (in my usual patronising manner) that some considerable thought (or what passes for it in Wolverhampton) has obviously gone into that sign. The result being that the scribe has thought long and hard on the spelling of "larger", with at least one erased attempt. Unless of course the previous version was advertising sider.

The Plashing Vole said...

Simon (aka Saxon?) - it is sweet. Thought has clearly been applied to this. The photo may be the first in an ongoing series now I've got a phone camera which plays well with my Mac. There's no shortage of material, even leaving students' work out of it for ethical and job-keeping reasons…

Sue said...

What is a quadrant burger? Is it a quarter of a burger, or is it some strange Wolverhampton delicacy?

Zoot Horn said...

Sue - I think it's a speciality from a coffee-house-bar-eatery called the Quadrant near Wolves station. Am I right Vole? I thought that place was too cool and expensive to indulge in either burgers or spelling mistakes, but I guess I'm wrong.

Benjamin Judge said...

Anyone familiar with Open All Hours may also be familiar with the 'intentional' spelling mistake. The theory is that people feel compelled to pop in and correct your mistake and then find themselves in your place of business. You then proceed to sell them things. I am not joking when I say this is a genuine sales method - or that it works.

Also isn't the other photo taken in your house? Wouldn't that make them both in Wolverhampton? And the question misleading?

The Plashing Vole said...

OK, clever-clogs, it was to illustrate a point about Wolverhampton and was clumsily phrased. I'm not convinced that misspelling the name of your primary product is a sales tactic in this case.