Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Horseshoes

So every year my family has a reunion near Navajo Lake in Cedar Canyon, Utah. Now, some of you may have read about Aunt Joy, she is from another side of the family, so this story does not include her. Now, ever year there are several things that are done at this reunion: the hike, the service project, spiritual night, the talent show, and the hotly contested Horshoe Tournament.

Now you may say to yourself...'hotly contested? horseshoes?....right...' Well you haven't met my family. We are pretty competitive and talk pretty big about our amazing skills, and if we don't actually prove them, then we put the blame on something that was clearly not our fault. Now enter in a competition that has gone on at least since I was born. The competition is literally huge. Every year the partnership that wins the tournament gets their names enterred in on a plaque to be remembered for all time--and when I say all time, we even joke that our deceased ancestors are watching the tournament and perhaps participating in their own tournament at the horseshoe pit up in the sky. Yeah...it's a little over the top. To give you just a little bit of an idea of the contention surrounding this tournament, one year one member of the partnership had to leave the reunion early, and was replaced by, arguably, a better player. Well, that team ended up winning and three names were enterred on the plaque--it is still contested as to whether this was actually fair for all three names to be on the plaque or not; it has been over ten years and it is still argued.

So, it is a certain right of passage that when you turn 12, you are finally allowed to enter the horseshoe tournament, and you guessed it, it was the summer after my 12th birthday. To really understand this story though, you might need a quick lesson in how horseshoes is played. It is played by having two partnerships with one member of each partnership standing at alternate pegs which are spaced roughly 50 feet away from each other. The goal is to throw the horseshoe so that it encircles the peg, known as a "ringer," which is worth three points. Alternatively, if you are within a horseshoe's distance of the peg, you get one point (hence why being close only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades). Each side takes turns with the team that scored the last point to go first. One player from the first team throws two horseshoes, and then a player from the other team throws his two shoes towards the same peg, if no one gets a ringer, than the person that is closest peg gets the point (if they are close enough for a point). Additionally, if team #1 throws a ringer, and then team #2 throws a ringer, it is considered a "capped ringer" and no one gets any points from those shoes (although the other shoes are still in play).

Now, clearly it is only fair that the teams are chosen at random, thus all eligible players are put into a hat and then drawn out to form teams. I wasn't really that excited to be in the horseshoe tournament...but enterred it nonetheless, hoping to have a partner that might just make up for my lack of skill. As luck would have it, my cousin and I ended up being teammates....which shocked everyone since we were both 12 (which was surprising considering there were maybe three twelve year olds playing that year out of probably 35 other players). Needless to say, everyone thought this was going to be quite the team.

Naturally, everyone in the family watches the final match, however, earlier matches are usually only watched by immediate family members and people that have not been able to find something else to do. However, my match was directly before dinner, and suddenly the whole camp was there to watch the twelve year olds play. Needless to say this is not how I imagined nor hoped how things would go.

So the match began. While I was not doing very well, I was somehow making it through (although not receiving any points). It was the other side's time to throw and the other team threw a ringer (which would have finished the game). At this point, I was all for ending the pain and getting on with dinner. However, to the shock of everyone, my cousin capped the ringer (the only ringer our partnership threw the entire game), and the game continued, as well as my cousin earning us a point with his other shoe.

It was my first throw of the round. The horseshoe thrown towards the opposite peg landing about halfway there and then rolling across the ground to stop about five feet from the opposite peg. It was my second throw, I knew my last throw didn't go so well, I'd have to get more height on this throw. I threw the shoe up....up....I looked for it near the other peg...why couldn't I see it? Suddenly, falling through the air, the horsehoe landed...hitting the ground just three feet in front of me, much to the delight of the entire extended family. It may not surprise you to know that my name isn't on the plaque.