CHRISTMAS GAMES PART 2: Boxing Day RINGS...

 Christmas Games, Part 2: 

Boxing Day Rings…

Stoic Uncle Jack was an outside threat,

Though his finishes weren’t quite the thing;

He often struggled with individual hooks,

Then generally lose by barely a ring…

Loop-style cousin Derek was surprisingly accurate,

Through his action, knee-bending and slow;

He usually survived to the later rounds

And bow out after a jolly good show…

His determined twin Dave was always a danger,

Though his impetuosity was his Achilles’ heel;

He generally threw with a ‘flat darts’ action,

Then always express the anger he’d feel…

Give-Up Auntie Ivy was unwilling to perform,

Though a shadowy determination arose;

She often purposely threw away games,

Or occasionally haplessly forfeit her throws…

Ailing Margaret was allowed to stand close,

Though undaunted, she thought she’d thrown well;

She was usually applauded for almost placing the rings on to win,

Thus putting the vanquished through a frustration and hell…

My timid mum Marj was an interesting competitor,

For she stared at each ring as it fell to the floor,

Generally following it as it rolled round the carpet

 And watch as it slipped out silently through the door…

Gabbing Auntie Ghreta was an also-ran,

Though a really good game she talked;

She often commentated upon each ring she’d cast,

But throw impatiently, just like she walked…

Me? Patient but a perennial loser,

Though I practised from when school was out;

Usually reaching the last eight or four,

Yet I won nothing when my cocky father was about…

Victorious Vic, my dad, was the annual winner,

Though his leaning, his foot-placement and action

Generally brought jeers and calls of “You’re cheating…”

But drew only a perennial smile of smug satisfaction…

Pete Ray

Throwing 6 rings onto a home-made wooden board bearing numbered hooks from 1 to 13.

THE ONE YEAR THE BOARD WAS HUNG NEAR THE FRONT WINDOW & MY MUM THROWS WITH A SMILE...

Boxing Day each year. 

Names were drawn from a hat to decide competitive pairings and to win a game, one had to reach exactly 101.

UNCLE JACK THROWS, WATCHED BY IVY...

My dad was good. No trouble usually getting 13, 9, 11 and 10. 

ME WITH MY FATHER.
HIS SMILE MAYBE REFLECTS HIS WINNING ATTITUDE...

Annoying.

The Bummer Cup thus stayed in my house…

MUM & ME: WE LEARNED TO LOSE... 

When family friend Margaret Brown reached the latter stages to play against him, my father made her stand at the normal throwing line, however… 

How unfair on the rest of us that was… 

Dad benefited, however.

It’s what he did…