Tuesday, July 31, 2012

100TWC - Day 4: Rivalry

The sun ached brightly from a sky of smudged aquamarine. Under its hazy canopy, a panoply of village dwellers gathered excitedly on the green, jostling for the best view. A buzz of expectation hovered above the crowd, drowning out the buzz of local bees who bumbled away at several flowers, industriously gathering their nectar and pollen. Toddlers sucked on silencing lollipops and ice creams, while mothers wiped up drips or tried unsuccessfully to keep two eyes on their three children. The men, those not involved in the contest, gathered at each side of the green, pints or bottles in one hand, cameras or mobile phones in the other. Some loudly exchanged memories of previous encounters, others gesticulated at the opposition, laughing.

In the centre of the green two small groups assembled - one to the North end; the other to the South. In a nod to traditional stereotypes, those standing at the North were dressed in flannel trousers, white open-necked shirts and flat caps, while those on the opposite side wore top hats and tails, or bowlers with pin-striped jackets.

But although the top half of their garb may have been frivolous, their bottom halves meant business. To a man they wore heavy walking boots, or steel toe-capped safety boots with deep treads. There was not a pair of trainers to be seen.

As the village clock began to chime the hour, the adjudicator stepped from the throng carrying a white cloth.

"Take your positions," he intoned.

North and South picked up their ends of a rope which had been lying unremarked across the green. The teams adjusted their relative positions, testing their grips and their footings as the centre marker swayed back and forth above the grass.

"Take the strain!"

The teams pulled slowly, taking up the tension of the rope. The adjudicator eyed the centre marker and turned to South.

"Give way, six inches," he shouted, raising his voice above the increased hubbub from the audience and lifting his white flag. As the marker approached centre a hush fell over the crowd.

"PULL!"

Boots bit deep into turf and muscles bulged as the teams tugged hard on the rope. North took an early advantage, leaning back strongly and with each team member having secured a solid stance. South, by contrast, having had to swap their anchor at the last moment for a relatively new member of the team, were initially caught off-guard. The centre marker swayed dangerously close to the line before the others recovered their balance and gained a holding position.

Beads of sweat stood out on the faces and arms of every man; sinews taut with effort and each face gurning with determination that the marker should, or should not, move any further.




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