Kubb Olympic Qualifiers 2012

The 2012 Finalists.

The 2012 Finalists.

After six years of organising the Kubb tournament, you have to admit I certainly know how to pick the date. Avoid the Glastonbury festival, don't have it during exam season, keep well away from the Wimbledon final and, last but not least, make damned sure you choose the single most miserably damp Saturday you can manage. But as usual, the weather did not deter our hardcore players. Many old players returned, along with plenty of new ones, including a very pleasant party of 12 and a half from north Bristol and another group who brought with them a small fluffy dog that Bill Bryson would refer to as 'a burly hamster'. It was probably a Chihuahua, but whatever it was, its sh1ts look like wormcasts. Unfortunately at one point I think I saw someone absentmindedly use it to dry off a baton, but even then it was impeccably behaved.

Before we started, there were two popular topics of conversation amongst the old hands. Firstly, the playing surface, which in horse racing parlance would be best described as 'soft'. It must have been ignored for so long by the New Inn groundsmen that it wouldn't have surprised me to find a crop circle in it. If they ever get round to cutting it, they'll need a combine harvester, not a mower. Secondly, the Germans, and were they coming again. Many will recall the very pleasant family who flew over especially last year to teach us all how to play - they left with another victory under the belt and one of the worst trophies I ever managed, the now legendary mug tree. I suspect that secretly most players did not want them to return [after all, you can only cope with having your arse so soundly whupped once in a lifetime] and they were not disappointed. We tried to fool ourselves that Team GupfelSturmer were probably running scared, but it's more likely that they were extremely unimpressed. I'd even made a wooden gun as a first prize for them, just to see how they coped with it on their return through Customs. But that's not to say we didn't have an international field. No. We had two players from Wales who came as an advance recce party and who have promised to return next year in force. To welcome them, I think I might set up a toll gate at the pub entrance, in retaliation for the Severn crossing fees I've suffered over the years. 

And so once the 30 teams had assembled to hear my embarrassingly ill-prepared welcoming speech, during which even I got bored, we began proceedings and I actually got to play in a proper team for the first time, just to make up the numbers, you understand. Despite the fact that 'The Neil Wilson All-Star Kubb Dynamos' was formed mere minutes before the start and consisted of myself, 10 year old Charlotte [who insisted on being captain, otherwise she was going home, thank you] and Laurence [let down badly by his Mother [I don't mean throughout his life in general, just on the day when she was stuck in traffic], we did really well, winning three out of three. That put us in the semi-final against Joe and Rich, an epic match of nearly an hour, during which Charlotte had to leave [I think she had a party to go to, or a similar better offer]. The match flowed back and forth and the crowd were suitable enthralled, particularly those who had come mostly to heckle. I can't describe the level of abuse as being of John Terry standard, but at one stage I was referred to as being 'really quite disappointing' and 'somewhat poor on the whole'. Did it put me off ? Not a bit, it'll take more than that level of puerile b******* from b******s like those f****** to spoil my concentration levels. But we were beaten after a minor fracas with a baton, and deservedly so.

The final, between Joe and Rich and Ben's team, was pretty quick, Ben and co taking the title. For their troubles, they won a Kubbuteo set, which they received with a look of dismay, bordering on disappointment. They should have known better not to expect too much. Actually, I believe they were secretly thrilled with it - I base this on the fact that they didn't dump it in a hedge whilst leaving the pub afterwards.

What else can I say ? Thanks to Ian for helping set up beforehand but please, please, PLEASE - no string next year ! Thanks also to Jane and Ellie for scoring and organising - another fine job that allowed me to get on out there and mingle. Thanks to Jesse and Corrine for all their help - hopefully next year they won't get stuck in a Gay Pride march through central Bristol, unless that's preferable, of course. But finally thanks to all you players, who have to suffer both bad weather and me - 4 hours of either is more than enough for most people and your attendance and continued support is much appreciated.

As is now becoming tradition, we ended the afternoon with a quick 'shall we do it all again next year ?' which resulted [as is also tradition] in a resounding 'not bothered. ok, yes'. And to cap it all, there's even talks of another tournament being organised. You can be sure that I'll be going to the 'Kubb UK regional qualifier : Cambridgeshire and district' - I'm itching to see what a proper trophy looks like.

Kubb European Masters 2011

So here we are again, the time for me to try and sum up another great afternoon of Kubb playing. The trouble is, of course, that this is the fifth time I've had to do this and I've long ago worked through my extensive list of wood-based jokes. But isn't that just the thing - this is the fifth time. Back in May 2007 when so many of you first gathered in miserable weather at the Station Inn, probably against your better judgement, did we ever dream it would come to this ? Did we imagine that we'd be able to boast an afternoon of sporting endeavour to an international field of competitors ? People came from literally all over the world - Bristol, London, Liverpool, Germany. Ah…..Germany. More of that later.

So how was it ? Well, the weather was initially abysmal, and that's being kind. It simply chucked it down while my helpers set up the pistes. But so keen were they to get the job done that they simply could not be diverted by the thought of a glass of Stella. They made up for it later, though. Boy, did they make up for it later….. 

Setting up continued and then, when we were almost ready, a coach arrived. [Players last year may remember a similar event when a coach load of Orientals arrived. I was, frankly, sh1tting myself at that point as I doubted I could cope with the additional numbers and my Japanese just isn't that good. Fortunately they merely sang a song [eh ?], returned to their coach and left]. It says something about my state of mind that I was anticipating a repeat event but news quickly filtered through to me that this coach actually had people wearing Kubb t-shirts on it, and that they were keen to let somebody else carry the heavy burden of driving while they got on with the more enjoyable tasks of playing and drinking.

Fortunately as the official opening ceremony began [that's just me, shouting mainly], the rain stopped and 30 teams were able to begin battle. The sun came out and it started to get really hot, leaving many with the dilemma on how best to stop themselves overheating. Personally I keep in the shade, but others prefer the technique of taking 'liquids', orally, by the pint or wine glass, to be repeated every 15 minutes. That's fine, unless you 'overdose' and your body 'rejects'. I was just glad that it wasn't over one of my Kubb sets.

Anything else of merit ? Oh yes, the Germans and their technique. They were good, really good - at one point I saw a keen young fan recording High Definition video of their throwing technique, with the intention of watching it in slow motion later on. They won, deservedly, and although most of us assumed they might just possibly already have a Kubb set, they gratefully received another from Crown Darts. Quite what they made of the spectacularly shoddy wooden mug tree I gave them was less easy to gauge. With hindsight, I have to admit that I messed up rather - I knew they were coming and should have allowed for the possibility of them winning. I should have gone with my gut instincts and, for a trophy, made a wooden gun - try taking THAT baby through Customs ! Amusingly someone made the comment "That's quite a heavy set to take back on a plane to Germany - it's going to cost a lot to get it through Excess Baggage…..hopefully". We all laughed of course, but only because we needed to feel better about ourselves, having being so hugely outclassed. Joking aside, they were very pleasant people and had obviously made a huge effort to turn up for what could reasonably be described as little more than a few hours of 90 people drinking in a pub garden, shouting insults at each other from either end of a vomit stained patch of grass. 

While we're on trophies, a special one was awarded - 'Most improved player, 2012'. It emerges that one player [I shall refer to her simply as Mrs. H.S. of Main Road, Temple Cloud, firstly to preserve her dignity and secondly because I can't remember exactly how to spell her first name - is it one 'L' or two, Hilary ?]  has played every year for the last 5 years but never won a single match. We felt the need to encourage her by giving her this award, a year in advance, as a motivational tool - and if she fails again to win a match next year, we'll have it back off her. Not that she'll mind, I suspect, as it genuinely looked as if it had been quickly put together by a poorly child wearing mittens in a darkened room, with their eyes shut, and then chewed by next door's dog.

Ok, enough of that, who do I need to thank ? Firstly, Jesse from Crown Darts who drives down from Stafford, sells a few sets, gives one away as a prize and shouts nearly as much as me. Afterwards, he came round to ours for a drink. He didn't try to steal any of the cutlery, so I'll undoubtedly be inviting him again next year. Invaluable. Next up is the combined administrative talent of Jane, Grace and Ellie. Sponsored by Pimms, they ensured that the afternoon went smoothly, keeping the games going and freeing me up for chatting and more shouting. [At this point, let me briefly divert and make this promise - I'm not going to shout next year. I'm really not - I'm going to buy me a megaphone….. ] Thanks also to the New Inn for use of their garden. Then again, somebody suggested they might thank me - I'd love to know how much they took that afternoon. And last but not least, Ian and Mary, who took charge and set up the pistes. I really should buy them a present as a 'Thank You', I'm thinking a tape measure and a set square ?

Finally, I was thinking back to a comment made by a friend a few months back - her view was that I must be mad to arrange the event each year. And while I understand her viewpoint, I'm increasingly of the opinion that, actually, I would be mad to stop - the enjoyment it gives to so many people keeps me buoyed up for months to come and it is always a joy, ALWAYS a joy, to see old friends and acquaintances again, even if just for a few hours. Your continued support and tolerance of my shouting and temporarily gruff manner is, as ever, hugely appreciated. 

But you know that, right ?

Kubb UK 2010 Tournament

When discussing last year's Kubb tournament with players in the months afterwards, I received two pieces of very sound advice :- (1) change the date to sometime in the Summer and (2) have more than one trophy to contest. So, being an accommodating chap, I took both ideas on board and I'm glad I did. Not only did we have better weather than in the past few May events, but also people had a lot more to play for once they'd lost a game, with both a Cup (for people who won all three games) and a Plate (for those who only won two) on offer. When I say "a lot more to play for", the prizes are, of course, still made of wood and, naturally, incredibly shoddy but you get the gist. And just to rub salt into the wounds, the Plate trophy was a lot bigger and better than the Cup and the runner's-up prizes significantly more impressive than the winner's. 

The afternoon started off quite worryingly - less than 15 minutes before the start, a coach of 40 Japanese arrived and proceeded towards the garden. With 80 players already in attendance, I feared that I was about to be overwhelmed by such a number. Fortunately they stopped short of the playing area, sang a brief but incomprehensible song, took some photos and got back in the coach. Ever the opportunist, I claimed to have organised this for the benefit of the players but was not generally believed. I was also concerned as the photos were taken next to the brand new homemade KubbUK flag - it would be uncharitable (though accurate) to describe it as rubbish, but some of the high power lens of the photographers may reveal a greater lack of attention to detail than could be seen from the ground. 

And so the event proceeded. Many players had joined us in previous years but we did have some new teams and faces, from as far as Liverpool and London. And thus, after a few disagreements about rules and throwing styles, we got stuck in. There's not much I can say now about the actual playing any more. It's hard to describe the graceful lob of a particular player without getting bored but I will say that I actually got to play for once. Due to the odd number of teams present, all contestants were thrilled by the appearance of the near mythical "Neil Wilson Allstar Kubb Dynamos" team. Actually not all contestants, not the ones we beat... 

What else to say ? Oh yes. The Red Arrows flew in formation overhead. Again I tried to take credit and again I failed. And we had what is thought to be the first ever Speed Kubb session. I needed to get 10 teams down to 4 for the Plate semi-finals, so we started 5 matches off simultaneously, the fastest 4 winners getting through. It was certainly amusing to see such usually casual players chucking Kubbs as quick as they could, but I'd have liked to see at least a few accidents in the chaos. 

Eventually the teams were whittled down to two for the Cup and two for the Plate. Both matches were played in great spirit, which was disappointing. The crowd provided world class heckling and even attempted a Mexican wave at one point. And both matches were won. But don't ask me to say who by, because I only know one of the four teams in the finals (my team beat them in less than 10 minutes, though they deny this) and it would be churlish to only name check them. But I will report that still no team has won the coveted KubbUK trophy more than once, which either proves how the standard is ever increasing or shows how bloody inconsistent most people are. 

Thanks are due to the New Inn who let us use their excellent garden again in return for filling their pub with thirsty punters for an entire afternoon and also to family members Grace and Jane. To the tasks I had allocated to them (scoring and scheduling matches), they had added a number of their own - chatting, sitting and drinking, at which they excelled. Their efforts were much appreciated as it gave me the chance to "press the flesh", heckle and, as said, even play. The day ended with a three cheers for me [I didn't even have to start it this year] and the annual question "Shall we do it again next year ?" You will be glad, though maybe not surprised, to know that the answer was a resounding "Yes".

Kubb UK 2009 Tournament

If you'd asked me on the morning of the annual Kubb tournament what I thought the majority of emails and discussions I'd be having a few days later would be about, never in a million years would I have answered anything about checking dates for the World Cup 2010. And yet that's what happenned, me carefully scouring the FIFA website to ensure that the next time our finest Kubb fanatics get together, we don't clash with a potential England football match.

Let me put this into context : word on the street had it that Saturday was going to be a washout and I was receiving notification of players declining my kind offer to spend an afternoon gadding about in a sodden pub garden. Therefore I duly arrived at the venue fully expecting it to be the last tournament I'd be organising. 5 hours later and I had been very much corrected by the opinions of some 70 players, all saying that if I was prepared to organise it, the least they could do was come and play. To mangle a comparison with the First World War soldiers who played football during a Christmas Day ceasefire, these Kubb players wouldn't have waited until Christmas Day, they'd have been throwing batons even during the height of battle !

Fortunately on the day, the weather was ok. We had periods when rain stopped play for a few minutes but we also had warm spells and great sunshine. Unfortunately a slight puff of wind all but destroyed the flimsy KubbUK gazebo, leading me to think that next year I must invest in something more robust. Like a campervan. But we had 20 teams, undaunted by the weather and desperately competitive, blissfully unaware of just how shoddy a set of trophies I'd managed to conjure up. Impressively, and perhaps I shouldn't be surprised, there was no need for a demonstration game after my welcome speech and fatuous jokes at the expense of old friends. People just wanted to get on and play on a set of pitches that had been so haphazardly measured out that one of them was closer to a square than a rectangle.

There were some great matches, often between members of the same family. I know of at least 3 children who have had their pocket money stopped and a few husbands who have been advised to avail themselves of the spare bed. The standard was such that a couple of games went on for over an hour, leaving all participants drained but still fit enough to find their way to the bar of the New Inn. Perhaps this is now the appropriate time to mention our new venue. When I was first organising a tournament in 2007, I had checked out the New Inn and their garden. But I dismissed it as far too large and I was unwilling to choose a location in which we did anything less than dominate the space available. But here we are, 2 years later, and we'd filled a great proportion of it, much to the chagrin of some of the locals' children.

Games continued apace until eventually we whittled the competition down to 3 teams and had to settle on a quick means of deciding the best two for a final. This was done by a 'toss-off' in which each team had 10 batons to knock over as many Kubbs as possible. The first team up was Andy Loakes and his winning team from 2007. They scored 2. Next were 'The Londoners', who managed 3. Finally Richard Collis [winner from 2008] and son Duncan managed 2. Time for 'sudden death' with Andy & Richard's teams throwing alternately until one could gain a lead, that team being Andy and friends.

The final was, to put this kindly, brief. I can't be positive but I don't think Andy's team hit a single Kubb. They probably wanted to chuck a couple into the hedge afterwards but would have likely missed that also. Team 'Londoners'  Joe and Rich, won easily and were possibly bemused by the dismally engraved KubbUK rolling pin but definitely grateful to be recipients of a set of Crown Dart Kubb.

Mention of Crown Darts leads neatly on to people I must thank. Firstly Jesse Brough, whose enthusiasm and assistance before, during and after the event are of immense value to me. The fact that he comes all the way down from Staffordshire speaks volumes. And because so many players already have Kubb sets, he hardly sells any at all.  Secondly thanks to my wife Jane, who took on the role of scorer and chief administrator. I didn't buy her any flowers or anything but I did let her keep a couple of the marker-pens she had been using as a thank you. Her support meant I could get out around the garden and insult/banter with far more people than in previous years. Thirdly Graham and Sonja of the New Inn, for letting us trample their garden and muddy their bar - they know we are keen to return. But most importantly I must thank everybody who came to play or watch - your continued support is much appreciated and I hope you will all be honest enough to tell me when you feel that we should call it a day. And then, but only then, can I stop worrying about the damned weather forecast.