Story Time:
I'm going to try to tell a story today Blogger, so tell me if it sucks horribly or not. Be aware that this counts as a first draft, I know it's not God's gift to writing or anything like that. This is the story of the Prancing Jedi Ponies. Or more accurately, part of the story of the Prancing Jedi Ponies, part 1 was sort of included in my post last week.
After the first two hours of practice managing to drone on for a ridiculously large amount of time today, we got to fence doubles epee again. The Prancing Jedi Ponies suited up; jackets on, gloves securely fastened, and masks in hand. That sentence would probably be cooler if I could comment on the shininess of our blades or the clank of the metal against the floor. But I didn't actually have a blade on account of me mooching a blade off of whoever wasn't using one at the time. Dayna did have an epee though, so I suppose I could have commented on the shininess of her blade and the clank of the metal when it hit the floor.
But in any case, we suited up. We being everyone in all actuality, but the Prancing Jedi Ponies (aka Dayna and I) are the focus of this here story so everyone else can just shove it. After we were adequately dressed, the PJP headed out to the gym, towards the strip, and our fate.
Match 1: Prancing Jedi Ponies vs. Amish Ninjas (Josh and Blake)
After I've bummed a blade off of Bill the fencers take their respective positions. PJP on the right, and Amish Ninjas on the left. Salutes were given and blades were prepped. Engarde. Silence. The intensity of staring down an opponent can almost be felt on the strip. As I stare into Blake's eyes through our respective masks in acknowledgment for the bout to come, I wonder if Dayna and Josh are doing the same on their side of the line. The tension is increasing as we all wait for the final signal. A single word: Fence.
Slowly we advance. Both sides taking their time, waiting the other team out, waiting for the crucial first move, waiting for an opening. Blake's guard is low, I lunge. An explosion of energy, back leg planted and stretching for more distance, front foot gliding across the floor, blade hand extending, reaching for the opening. Contact.
A buzzing can be heard from my right, the score box is lit. Green. The touch is mine. The adrenaline rushes, I've bested my foe, for now. He retreats off strip. We set up. Dayna and I staring down Josh. Two on one, his chances were slim. The touch is ours. Score 1-0. Four more to go.
And so it continues. The clank of metal, the stomp of feet, and muttered curses our soundtrack. Back and forth until there is only one left. Prancing Jedi Ponies the victors by a landslide.
Match 2: Prancing Jedi Ponies vs. Team Awesome (Brian and Bill)
We were fine until point 2-0. Team Awesome has a nasty habit of being super competitive. start winning by a significant margin... and they go crazy. Such angry fencers, the touches were harder and the pace was increased. We held our ground but the ponies eventually fell to the tune of Awesome ego's being inflated yet again.
Match 3: Prancing Jedi Ponies vs. PUSHR_4e (Brittany and Nathan)
Last match. The bout for second place. We were running out of time. Diagonal touches were brought to the max. Me and Nathan seemed to have it in for each other. The bout was close. 4-4. I tagged Brittany in the arm, two on one. We'd started a pincer formation. Dayna slightly ahead with me bringing up the rear. I was trying to lure Nathan out. He lured me. I was tagged, forced to stand on the sidelines as my teammate fought a sudden death match for second place. It was slow, it was tedious, and I the excitement was nearly tangible. The buzz of the score box is heard yet again. A green light. We've lost.
Quote of the Day:
"Is sloppiness in speech caused by ignorance or apathy? I don't know and I don't care."
-William Safire
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