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Saturday self challenge. Petanque
Today's Saturday Self Challenge is: Something that has to do with your favourite sport.
I have never been keen on any team sport until I was introduced to Petanque which is often called boules in the UK. The landlord (at the time - in the late 80s early 90s) of our local pub constructed 3 pistes in the play area and invited a couple to come over and teach us the rules. A thriving club was started and we had tournaments on summer afternoons and sometimes evenings. It was so friendly and enjoyable. Anyone of any age could take part. and the boules could be plastic ones filled with water or steel ones. We got so interested that we invested in competition boules that are marked with the size and weight. These are mine and are quite small but also heavy. In the late 90s we started visiting France each year and found the perfect gite in a small Provencal town called Peymeinade. The owners had a superb piste in their large garden and we played almost every evening, and also played on the beach in Théoule-sur-Mer.
They invited us to play in competitions in surrounding villages too, and one memorable contest was won by my partner Marcel and me. Only two teams were left in the competition. The score was critical, the opposing team had played their last boule and it was on the coche (jack), Marcel had played his last shot and I, with my last boule, was usually just a pointer (The one who plays the boules as close to the jack as possible). Marcel, standing at the end where the coche and boule were shouted "Shoot", and so I did. It was a magical carreau where the boule knocks out the opposing boule and stayed on the floor like a rock. It was such a surprise for everyone, especially me. ;-)))
Sadly the pistes no longer exist at our local pub, and we haven't been to France for about 14 years. The boules are just waiting ......
I have never been keen on any team sport until I was introduced to Petanque which is often called boules in the UK. The landlord (at the time - in the late 80s early 90s) of our local pub constructed 3 pistes in the play area and invited a couple to come over and teach us the rules. A thriving club was started and we had tournaments on summer afternoons and sometimes evenings. It was so friendly and enjoyable. Anyone of any age could take part. and the boules could be plastic ones filled with water or steel ones. We got so interested that we invested in competition boules that are marked with the size and weight. These are mine and are quite small but also heavy. In the late 90s we started visiting France each year and found the perfect gite in a small Provencal town called Peymeinade. The owners had a superb piste in their large garden and we played almost every evening, and also played on the beach in Théoule-sur-Mer.
They invited us to play in competitions in surrounding villages too, and one memorable contest was won by my partner Marcel and me. Only two teams were left in the competition. The score was critical, the opposing team had played their last boule and it was on the coche (jack), Marcel had played his last shot and I, with my last boule, was usually just a pointer (The one who plays the boules as close to the jack as possible). Marcel, standing at the end where the coche and boule were shouted "Shoot", and so I did. It was a magical carreau where the boule knocks out the opposing boule and stayed on the floor like a rock. It was such a surprise for everyone, especially me. ;-)))
Sadly the pistes no longer exist at our local pub, and we haven't been to France for about 14 years. The boules are just waiting ......
aNNa schramm, Ruebenkraut, Gabi Lombardo, Erhard Bernstein and 14 other people have particularly liked this photo
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