Читать книгу Bushell's Best Bits - Everything You Needed To Know About The World's Craziest Sports - Mike Bushell - Страница 25

Strange noises were coming from the barn. A whirring, a bang, a thwack – and then silence. The door creaked open and a man in brown overalls, with hair styled by shock, stumbled into the sunshine, blowing at his hands, as the last flicker of flame retreated into his gloves. His face was speckled with the charcoal, sweat and toil that you might associate with his work as a blacksmith, but there were no horses today. A broad grin beamed through the vanishing smoke: it was more than just a smile of satisfaction that the fire was out.

This grin quickly realised its ambition to be a smile, and was then knighted into unbridled euphoria. For this was a eureka moment that could make this man’s family life bearable again. He reached back into the barn to fetch a wooden ball, a four-pronged metal arch and a giant wooden hammer. This was his new baby, and it is what happens when sports are crossbred in a workshop. I have come across countless examples of these hybrids.