This is probably a bit passe these days - after all, the cool kids have been lawn bowling and drinking imported beer and listening to doof at the Fitzroy Bowls Club for a fair while now. (And of course, old people have been dropping dead over it for aeons!) But I thought it deserved mention. I have, I sheepishly admit, only been a couple of times myself, at the local joint directly across the street from my place, but it was indeed enormous fun. The VB was cheap, the old codgers were dinky di and we have subsequently gone for the $7 Friday night roast, which was as homely and overcooked as you could hope for! We only discovered the joys last year, just before the close of the season, so we have gotten out of the loop a bit, but I look forward to a few idle summer games coming up. (It'll also be an excellent excuse to get together with the housies, who will be ex-housies within a fortnight. Eep!)
Another stately and dignified grass-game (not) of which I have become equally as fond, is croquet. Cut-throat and viscious... yeah baby, that's the stuff! You can voice a lot of spite and vengeance in the clean 'tok' of mallet on ball. And if skill and deviousness fail, fling yourself on the ground in a tantrum! Worked for me! (Watch out for dog-poo.) I think with the weather lightening and the days lengthening, my thoughts are turning to outdoor activities. Probably the quintessential mates-game in my mind is the frisbee chuckabout. "Going down the park to chuck a frisbee" epitomises all that I love about summer holiday playing, even though I am mostly a bit of a spazz with a frisbee, and the slightest breeze can ruin my game. But it's what it represents, somehow. Copping a frisbee in the face sums up all that is good and sweet in the world. Ask any dog.
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