Tuesday evening saw the usual suspects from Sports Bar saunter onto our Piste here at Luton. They were a (largely) well revered cluster of very skilled players. The Family Huntley for one. Grandma Rosina, daughter Myra and partner Adrian, son Jeremy and daughter Sarah. Not forgetting Geoff White, veteran of the Petanque Circuit.
The Huntleys have won many 'scalps' here in the Chiltern Region and beyond at the Nationals and Abroad. With amazing regularity Their united skill is immense. Watching them limber up was like seeing poetry in motion. Sarah Huntley, fresh from a National Championship (she was successful,as ever) should be renamed 'The Boule Assassin' because every shot was on target and as forceful as any man could deliver.
Then the game started in earnest...To and fro, to and fro. The ends waxed and waned with surprising results...Our chaps battled in the grit. Tape measures flourished over close set boule. Coches re-thrown after biting the dust short of required distance. Teeth gnashed in annoyance and frustration. And as the very last boule was thrown, the Aviators were flying! They had completed their mission. Like a sortie of Hurricanes they had twisted and turned, blazed a trail of glory, not in the moth laden sultry night sky above, but in the dusty, dry grit below.
Incredible. The Huntley family lost out on their 'scalp' Our guys returned to their hangar, folded their wings away for another great win. But for now, cool Rev James beers to slake dry throats and time to rejoice and relax. And enjoy good natured banter with the 'Huntley Crew.'
The Huntleys have won many 'scalps' here in the Chiltern Region and beyond at the Nationals and Abroad. With amazing regularity Their united skill is immense. Watching them limber up was like seeing poetry in motion. Sarah Huntley, fresh from a National Championship (she was successful,as ever) should be renamed 'The Boule Assassin' because every shot was on target and as forceful as any man could deliver.
Then the game started in earnest...To and fro, to and fro. The ends waxed and waned with surprising results...Our chaps battled in the grit. Tape measures flourished over close set boule. Coches re-thrown after biting the dust short of required distance. Teeth gnashed in annoyance and frustration. And as the very last boule was thrown, the Aviators were flying! They had completed their mission. Like a sortie of Hurricanes they had twisted and turned, blazed a trail of glory, not in the moth laden sultry night sky above, but in the dusty, dry grit below.
Incredible. The Huntley family lost out on their 'scalp' Our guys returned to their hangar, folded their wings away for another great win. But for now, cool Rev James beers to slake dry throats and time to rejoice and relax. And enjoy good natured banter with the 'Huntley Crew.'