Windy walk along the North Yorkshire Coast.

Spot the intrepid Anglers….

Clearly Precarious Cliff Fishing is popular in Yorkshire . Later in the day I was participating in another dangerous local sport.

Cowpat Dodging.

We were trying out one of those new, changing colour LED Frisbees. Problem is that our garden isn’t big enough to properly test out the spinning discs aerodynamics. So Hawklad stayed in the garden and I drew the short straw, jumping over the fence and into the Farmer’s Field. Now we had a proper chucking distance between us. Problem is that earlier in the day, that very field was festooned with Cows, Cows doing Cow stuff…. Lots of Cow Stuff.

Trying to catch frisbees amongst the billion fresh cowpats is real high stakes sport.

Especially high stakes for me, brings back bad memories. A much younger version of me was playing a village cricket league match. Many village cricket strips are beautiful, immaculate, pristine. Not this particular one. It was a farmers field with some well worn matting layed roughly in the middle. To be fair, this farmer had clearly tried to remove as many cowpats as humanly possible, but one or two had been missed. Trying to take an heroic one handed diving catch, I scored a bullseye, landing directly in the biggest and freshest of cowpats. Actually I didn’t land in it, I actually slid through it…..

Let me assure you, cowpat really really really stands out on cricket whites….

It was UDDER chaos.

36 thoughts on “Sport”

  1. Wow, quite some cliffs to fish off! Sorry about your udder catastrophe though. Reminds me of my son’s preschool soccer games. The kids would stop the game and run to an look at doggie-do, screaming eeeeeewwww…… Drove the coach nuts.

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  7. At a village infant school in Lincolnshire we used to play a game the headmaster called shinty. IT had curved sticks, balls and enthusiasm, but I can’t remember the rules. I can however, remember the tussocks, the thistles and the cow pats. You have my sympathy.

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  9. Hahahah… That had me laughing out loud. I can sympathise! My grandparents lived on a dairy farm. In their retirement they moved, though had a small number of cows, pigs and chickens. I remember those cow pats and the jumping between, around and over them. Those were the days… 🤗

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    1. a teacher told me a story from his army days. They were on a march and the sergeant major ordered them to stop and sit, but this teacher was stood in a mud bank which was clearly also a cow toilet…. When he moved he was ordered to go back and sit where he had been stood. He said it was horrible.

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  10. Those of us who never lived on a farm or never went near one might have idyllic, bucolic images in our minds. Of serene cows, pretty paths and fresh grass. Cowpats seldom figure into it until a mishap occurs…

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  12. Such beautiful and breathtaking views, Gary. I can feel the wind and smell the water. Just lovely.

    Thankfully, the Cowpat smell does not come off your post! 😂

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      2. As I was looking at your title, I wondered if there is a word Reaved (so it would read Be Reaved…) and when I looked up the word “reaved” it rang the bell, that anyone who has grief is being thrown into this word and knows it all too well.

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