This Sporting Life
It was a beautiful spring day, and the sun shone
warmly on the greening grass. The Giggly Sisters looked out at this stunning
vista, and decided that they ought to go for the first picnic of the year.
Of course, Joe was up for it at once! Anything the
girls thought up was fine by Joe! Ben, however, took a little more persuading.
“It's spring,” he explained, as though this word, by itself, would tell them
all that needed to be done.
“Yes, we know how busy you are,” said the redhead
persuasively. “But surely it won’t hurt to have one afternoon off. Besides,
it’s almost Easter. We could take out our eggs and roll them down the hill, and
we could play games.”
The word games sent a shudder through Ben, but he
smiled. “I’m a little old to play games,” he said.
“Nonsense,” declared the blonde. “We’ll organise
everything. You just turn up after lunch.”
It was difficult to say no to the blonde when she put
herself out like that, so Ben agreed. They had a terrible job getting rid of
Hoss, who wanted to help make the sandwiches, but they did finally succeed.
Adam looked down his nose at them and said, “Catch me playing games!”
That afternoon, loaded up with picnic baskets,
paints, hard-boiled eggs and a bat and ball, they headed out for a picnic. It
was pleasant, Ben reflected, as he sipped cool white wine and watched Joe and
the girls paint the eggs. Hoss soon joined in, but Adam was too busy pretending
to be a grown up, and wouldn’t play.
When the eggs were finished and drying, the girls
started to organise the games. “It's called rounders,” said the redhead,
wielding her bat in a ferocious manner.
“It's called what?” repeated Ben, in bewilderment.
Adam gave a long-suffering sigh. "I think it's
some juvenile form of baseball."
The blonde gave him a steely look, honed over the
years and designed to impart fear and terror into all opponents encountered in
various sporting arenas. It was rather effective, but eventually she relented.
"You're not really the most athletic of
families, are you?" she enquired rhetorically. "Well, apart from the
time Joe rode in that horse race in The Hayburner …"
"I won too!" Joe interjected happily and
Adam gave him a most unbrotherly look. He still felt sore over the loss of that
rifle.
The blonde continued, unperturbed. "… and he's
often seen running, but as for the rest of the rest of you!"
Ben bristled with righteous indignation. Well, he'd
had plenty of practice over the years. As loyal viewers will attest, there never
seemed to be a week that went by without some calamity to get hot and bothered
about.
"I bustled across that desert to find Joseph in The
Gift!" he spluttered indignantly. "And I carried him in The
Trap too!"
Hoss gave his father a searching look. "That was
a one-off Pa! Ain’t no doubt that whenever Little Joe need carrying or even
swung around boyishly, it's yours truly who's called upon! Good thing the boy's
so small and dinky!"
Those were not exactly the words the sisters would
have chosen to describe Joe, who was indeed small, but was also perfectly
formed and undeniably gorgeous. They decided to let it pass though. Adam stood
pinching the bridge of his nose, a sure sign that he was distressed. Any moment
now, he thought and sure enough …
"Adam doesn't think so, do you big
brother?" Joe said indignantly. “After all, he made all that fuss when
asked to carry me in Honour of Cochise. All that fuss he made about me
being too heavy!"
"I was only thinking about Betty!" Adam
protested weakly, and not for the first time, the sisters wondered why he had a
girl, who was at least 60 pounds lighter than him as a stand-in. “It would have
been too much for her to do.”
“So instead I have to carry you!” Joe said. “And tell
me that’s fair!”
“It was Betty!” Adam protested, and the debate might
have gone on all afternoon, but the redhead wanted desperately to play
rounders.
“Come on, let’s play,” she said. “If you can play
baseball, you can play rounders. After all, we’re not asking you to play
cricket.”
“Good thing, too,” Adam said sourly, heaving himself
to his feet. “Cricket has to be the most boring game ever.”
After roping in a few ranch hands to make up the
opposing team, the game got underway, and provided the girls with the best
entertainment they had had in months. It was true; the Cartwrights weren’t the
most athletic family they had ever come across, apart from Joe. Hoss got caught
out on his way to first base. Adam made it half way round. The redhead did an
amazing sliding run into home, and the blonde managed to sprint round all the
bases in one run. Ben didn’t manage to hit a single ball, and looked distinctly
peeved. Joe took to the game like a duck to water, and he and the sisters won
the game hands down for the family.
Once they had all run about, it was time to roll the
painted eggs down the nearest hill. It was a pity that the hill ended up in the
lake, as a good many of the eggs rolled further than expected!
“So,” Ben said, panting only slightly and wringing
out the bottom of his trouser legs, “What’s the difference between rounders and
baseball then?”
The Giggly Sisters considered this carefully. They
really didn’t want to offend their hosts by telling them that rounders was
played by schoolchildren too young to have graduated to the much more
bloodthirsty playground game of British Bulldog.
“It’s normally played with a cricket bat,” the blonde
said eventually. Adam snorted at this.
“Such a boring, over-rated game. And far too
complicated and long-winded.”
The redhead bristled slightly at this. Her hair
wasn’t fiery red for nothing.
“The rules of cricket are perfectly simple. One side
is in and the other side is out. When the side that’s in is out, then the side
that’s out is in.”
“There are six innings in an over and when the side
that’s in declares, their innings are over,” the blonde added helpfully. “Then
there’s French Cricket, which is completely different again.”
“Strikes me that any game that stops for tea is plumb
sensible.” Naturally, this came from Hoss.
Ben was desperately trying to find instances of his
family proving their sporting prowess and looking a bit hassled. The blonde
took pity on him.
“There was that time you all had that lovely mud
wrestling contest in Springtime!” Both sisters sighed loudly at the
happy memories this produced.
“And all those fabulous times when Joe bounds around,
whipping his epee with reckless abandonment!” the redhead added.
Hoss gave her a sour look. His fencing prowess in The
Frenchman had been less than impressive. “I like wrestling!” he said,
around a mouthful of hard-boiled egg. “I was great in The Ape and of
course The Duke! Not to mention San Francisco.”
“And don’t forget my valiant one-man trek across the
desert, pulling Kane on the travois!” Adam stated firmly. In actual fact, Ben
had been trying to do just that. He still hadn’t got over the fact that his son
was sporting a leather Alice band around his forehead for a goodly part of The
Savage.
“What games did you play at college, Adam?” the
redhead asked innocently. She’d noticed that Adam really wasn’t too keen to
talk about his sojourn in the arms of academe and was curious to find out why.
“I concentrated on my studies,” Adam informed her
loftily.
“All work and no play …!” the blonde quipped merrily.
“After all, as Hamlet says ‘the play’s the thing’.”
Adam was sure she had quoted this out of context but all of a sudden there was a loud clanging noise, disturbing the peacefulness of the afternoon.
“That’s Hop Sing! Dinner’s ready!” Hoss leaped to his
feet and started to trot towards Chub, who sighed softly and braced his knees
in expectation. The blonde gave Adam a wicked look.
“Do not ask for whom the bell tolls – it toll’s for
tea!”
Giggly Sisters
Productions
April 2003