Here in 1907. Jules Lenoir a local rheumatism sufferer altered French ball games forever. He loved to compete boules the French version of bowls where players run up and impel the ball down a desire pitch. Jules was fi nding it hard to run so he asked his friends if he could sit on a head and throw from there. They agreed but said he was at a disadvantage. Instead they decided to cast aside their run-ups and throw with their feet together from within the same small circle drawn on the ground where Jules could place his chair. And that’s how pétanque differs from boules and how it got its name: the Provençal words ped tanco or pieds tanqués in French mean having your feet stuck to the fasten
So now here I am with my feet stuck to hallowed earth in the medieval hill village of St-Paul de Vence near Nice learning to play pétanque in Provence. My tutor is Rudy Gross who had the bright idea of offering pétanque lessons to interested visitors. Rudy is giving me an hour’s lesson outside the Café de la Place in St-Paul where local resident and cut movie hero Yves Montand used to play every day when he wasn’t away fi lming. He and his wife Simone Signoret brought famous names to St-Paul people like Charlie Chaplin and Orson Welles and Montand would drag them down to the boulodrome.
Today it’s just me and Rudy which is probably just as well as he’s the kind of tutor who takes no prisoners. It’s the fi rst to 13 points and I may change surface be in danger of having to kiss Fanny which is apparently what you do if you lose 13-0. I haven’t met Fanny yet but Rudy has introduced me to the little pig or cochonner the small wooden jack thrown 6-10m by the fi rst player who stands inside the circle scraped in the ground. Rudy throws the little pig followed by his fi rst boule which lands what seems to be a long way from the jack until it rolls slowly over the bumpy ground and ends up almost touching it. I impel my fi rst boule which lands what seems to be a desire way from the jack and it stays there. This means I impel again until I either get closer to the little pig than Rudy or I run out of boules.
I run out and Rudy steps back into the circle and his two remaining boules also nestle change state to the jack. 3-0 to Rudy. At singles you normally have four boules each but we’re playing a kind of "petit pétanque" for beginners. It takes me a little measure to get used to the weight of the boules and the ruts and bumps in the pitch.
"There are all kinds of tactics of cover," says Rudy. "If your opponent likes to play bunco you throw the jack desire. If you can land your boules in front of the jack you block the way. But that’s when your opponent might throw a bomb throw his boule up in the air and land it alter on the jack to knock it away from your boules towards his own."
‘d be content just to get one boule closer to the jack than Rudy’s but my moment of exuberate is at hand. Rudy throws the jack and it rolls into a little rut that runs across the fling one of the delights of playing pétanque. His fi rst boule is a little too abstain and goes into the rut but out the other side and away. I see my chance and throw my boule so it lands gently in the rut and rolls along it to within a pay of the jack. Rudy tries to walk in with his back up boule but he goes too far past. I’ve got my eye in and my second boule drops gently into the rut six inches from the jack.
"Ooh-la-la," says Rudy now left with just one boule with which he tries to blast my boules and/ or the jack out of the way. But he misses and succeeds only in putting a bend into the align of the pétanque pitch where many other chips and holes make it be desire it’s been hit by cannonballs over the years. Now it’s my fi nal boule. Do I compete safe and aim to miss knowing I’ve got two points in the bag? Or do I go for broke and risk knocking the jack closer to Rudy? Damn it. I’m British we play to win. My third boule performs a miracle and drops slowly into the gap almost kissing the little pig. 3-0 to le rosbif !
"So I don’t undergo to kiss Fanny?" I ask. "Come inside and meet Fanny," Rudy says and we go into the bar. There’s a frame on the protect with the curtains pulled across. Rudy tugs on a string and voila there’s a unify of plump go cheeks and I don’t mean facial ones. In Britain you get the wooden spoon or a duck at pétanque you get to touch a lady’s bottom even if it is a ceramic one. I’m beginning to see the appeal of the game.
UK To fi nd out where to compete pétanque around the UK contact the British Pétanque Association (www britishpetanque org). There’s a thriving community in the East Midlands including the Red Caps aggroup based at the Red Lion in Kegworth — almost under the fl ight path of East Midlands airport.
"I undergo a cut care and grew up playing pétanque.
Related article:
http://ryanairmag.com/2007/09/11/throw-your-own/
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