The Heir had a fencing meet yesterday.
We have to get him all the way to Belfast once or twice a week for lessons, but whatevs.
Here he is without the bug hat.
It's really called a face mask. The rest of the kit consists of lamé, jacket, underarm protector, glove, knickers, socks, special shoes, body cord, and electric foil. I have to replace one of these things approximately every fifteen minutes to keep up with the growth rate. Do you see the size of those feet?
Anyhoo, back to the fencing meet.
The Heir's weapon of choice is foil (as opposed to épée or saber. If you are truly interested in further explanation, a good overview is posted here.)
These things go on...
...and on...
Note: I will never understand what's going on during these matches, any more than I will eventually comprehend exactly what "offsides" is in soccer. Too many things happening too fast.
It's hard work - not just physically but mentally, because there's so much strategy and concentration involved. It's not called "physical chess" for nothing.
By the time it's over, the kids are well and truly pooped.
The guy in the black is who keeps showing up in the pictures is John Krauss, who runs the Down East School of Fencing. Great guy, fantastic instructor. He loves the sport and really gets the kids.
Another note: kids who fence are really great. I say this objectively, of course. I will refrain from going into a deep psychological musing about the type of person who is drawn to a sport that combines intellectual quickness, discipline, rigorous physical activity, respect, tradition, protocol, and the ability to adhere to strict rules, other than to say there's a marked difference from certain other sports.
Here are yesterday's winners, who have gone from beating the crap out of each other with swords to best buds in two seconds flat.
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