stabbing Santa Claus

Viewers paused on the bridge above the salle. They looked puzzled - even slightly concerned. I don't know if they had watched fencing before but they probably hadn't seen festive fencing before.

Because of the icy pavements, I hadn't visited all the shops I'd intended. My fencing kit was sadly short of tinsel. However, before the snow fell, I had bought a pair of felt reindeer antlers, They had the added advantage of small lights that would flash cheerfully whenever I pressed a button while the headband emitted a faint tune. I wasn't sure that "Jingle Bells" was quite what I needed to strike fear into the heart of my opponents, but it was certainly festive. I wound some of last year's fluffly lilac tinsel round my wrist. Then I looked round for an opponent.

I started by fencing foil against a boy in Christmas hat with a gold-tinselled sword. All around me santas were battling reindeer, using foil and sabre. The floor was acquiring a light dusting of shredded, glittering tinsel.

Perhaps the best costume involved gold tinsel sewn to fencing jackets and breeches combined with orange gloves, trimmed with white fur and beads, a santa hat and - the winning touch - a long white Santa beard apparently descending from the fencing mask. "Epée?" I asked Santa.

I pressed the button on my antlers so that I could advance to the reassuring sound of "Jingle Bells." Sadly the lights had stopped working after a few hits. It was a little hard to adopt a threatening demeanour and I was worried that my sword might tangle in Santa's beard. Still, we fenced for some time and I took great pleasure in stabbing Santa Claus.

It wasn't the most vigorous or dedicated evening of fencing, though I did get some really useful advice on wrist action in parrying. I'd known before that I needed to make my attacks and parries far more precise but there's a difference between knowing the theory and suddenly feeling the practice click into place. The coach who spent time with me told me exactly what I needed to know at just the right time - I hope I can hold that knowledge through the holidays. Many fencers paused to photograph bouts, to exchange cards or simply to watch the fencers. Someone borrowed a large broom from the leisure centre staff and a foilist and sabreuse spent time clearing the floor of Christmas sparkle.

The evening ended with a visit to the pub. I cadged a lift from one of the coaches (in a jaguar!) and enjoyed a glass of mulled ale and more conversation with my fellow fencers. Sadly, the leisure centre is closed between Christmas and New Year and I shan't be fencing again till mid-January. However, I can look forward to the fencing club Christmas dinner in the New Year, just as all the festivities are winding down into January bleakness.

Merry Christmas - and I hope you have a happy and peaceful New Year - apart from whatever amount of enjoyable and consensual violence you would choose.

bow-ties, shoes and swords

I hardly recognized the fencers.


We had gathered at the golf club for our annual dinner and awards ceremony. There had been suggestions about dressing up, but I hadn't expected a white-tie affair.

Not that white ties were compulsory. There were also black bow-ties, coloured ties, shirts without ties, waistcoats and, from determinedly casual dressers, sweatshirts. The women did their best but could hardly compete, althought there were some fine dresses and ensembles. In particular, one epeeist had gone for the 1940s look, with straight seams down the back of her legs. Were they stockings, I wondered, or the really authentic 1940s austerity look, created by gravy browning and eyebrow pencil. Alas, she had adopted the modern option - tights. Still, her shoes and dress were very fine, and she approved of my shoes too, before our conversation moved to more general subjects. Soon we had left outfits and fencing far behind and were talking of cinema. "You must see Ang Lee's Lust. Caution," I was told. "I've heard it's good," I responded. "Oh yes," my friend replied, "and the shoes are excellent."

We seemed determined to show that our interests went beyond fencing, although there were fencing questions in the traditional quiz. I didn't know many answers. I have no idea how indicators for national rankings work and couldn't calculate the numbers of D.E. bouts in a large contest. At least I remembered which British epeeist won the 2007 Heidenheim championship. One question revealed the decision to include the bib as a target in foil. My hits often land on the bib but it still sounds an awful idea - and an expensive one. Presumably foilists, like sabreurs, will need special and expensive masks for fencing on electric pistes - a further deterrent for fencers with less money. Epee remains the pauper's sport, with the cheapest equipment.. (Looking at discussion sites, I see talk of outlawing the fleche as well. I hope it will stay. I've never used a fleche in combat but there's something exhilarating about ending footwork practice with a fleche and a shout.)


Speeches at the end of the meal were crammed with jokes. We poured the last of the red wine and were easily amused. Award winners posed with their trophies as cameras, mobile phones and glasses were raised. The main trophies are retired weapons (with ornaments for keeping) but there are also medals for second and third place. We cheered and applauded the winners. Opposite me sat the new master-of-arms. I leaned over to admire his swords and medals and tipped my wine glass. A red stain grew on the medal ribbons. No-one had white wine to remove the stain so a friend tried using salt. It didn't work.