Recently, a group of Chiltern Petanque players descended on the hallowed grounds of the Royal Chelsea Hospital following favourable negotiations between 'Our Man on the Ground' Gordon Ansell and his opposite number Michael Hall on behalf of the Chelsea Pensioners. Both men had met weeks previously and over coffee and a game on the newly installed pristine Piste (Petanque playing arena), a warm invitation was extended to Gordon and his team to 'come on down' and play a few games with Michael and his trusty band of keen but relatively inexperienced players. Indeed, the reason for such a visit was to impart some formality into the game. A 'come and try' event if you like. Learning as you go.
And so it turned out to be! The day dawned bright and full of promise. Blue skies up above. Warm sunshine. Not a cloud to be seen. Ten Chiltern players decked out in their team colours approached the resplendent site of gleaming wrought iron gates and manicured lawns, beyond which stood the unmistakable architecture of Sir Christopher Wren. Standing proud and tall, the bespoke 325 year old Royal Hospital Chelsea. Commissioned by Charles II for veteran army soldiers to live out their retirement after many years of battle. His legacy lives on today as we found out as we walked through gardens bedecked with flowers and plants buzzing with the lazy hum of bees and the sweet sent of honeysuckle Beyond the archway lay our Shangri-la. Enclosed in the Courtyard, opposite a very aptly positioned Cafe, stood a golden rectangle of sandy Piste. Still in its infancy but fit for purpose. Awaiting its final Jewel in the Crown - a top coating of grit to give it permanency and durability.
Michael was there, hand outstretched in friendship.
From that moment on things just got better and better. Mike introduced us to his fellow enthusiasts. One lady among a group of six men. Charmaine had been 23 years in the Military Police. She was stalwart, straight backed, sharper than a box of knives. And she plunged into the games with the same considered application and verve that I daresay she displayed during her illustrious Army Career. We played two games of Triples. All 'mix and match.' Their team and ours. It was not fast and furious. Or slow and lugubrious. It was a learning curve for us all. Our wonderful hosts more than made up for any Petanque short falls. They were gracious, as keen as mustard, humorous, humble, willing, courteous. They were a joy. To talk to, to be with, to play with, to laugh and joke with and share light hearted banter. Already, at the end of the game, they had picked up the rudiments of the rules, had watched first hand how our Shooters dispatched the opposition's boule and were developing some excellent 'pointing' techniques.
We retired hot and thirsty to the Cafe for refreshments and 'after game' discussion. Such a positive group of people. Full of optimism and determination. Mike had made vast leaps in such a short length of time. The Piste erected, two classes of local school children already 'hooked' on the game after playing with the Pensioners. Smaller boules for juniors having been bought ready for the job. Scoreboards made and ready. Just disabled access to get implemented. Want a job done? Don't go to Trust a Trader! The Chelsea Pensioners will be there in a tick. Job done and dusted. Bull dog spirit alive and kicking.
We left with goodie bags and the promise that we will see them in the near future. At their Piste or up to ours, here in the Chiltern Region. Such glorious anticipation. Somehow, gently and magically, those honourable and proud Pensioners, crept into our hearts and stole them. Without a drop of blood being shed. Incredible.
And so it turned out to be! The day dawned bright and full of promise. Blue skies up above. Warm sunshine. Not a cloud to be seen. Ten Chiltern players decked out in their team colours approached the resplendent site of gleaming wrought iron gates and manicured lawns, beyond which stood the unmistakable architecture of Sir Christopher Wren. Standing proud and tall, the bespoke 325 year old Royal Hospital Chelsea. Commissioned by Charles II for veteran army soldiers to live out their retirement after many years of battle. His legacy lives on today as we found out as we walked through gardens bedecked with flowers and plants buzzing with the lazy hum of bees and the sweet sent of honeysuckle Beyond the archway lay our Shangri-la. Enclosed in the Courtyard, opposite a very aptly positioned Cafe, stood a golden rectangle of sandy Piste. Still in its infancy but fit for purpose. Awaiting its final Jewel in the Crown - a top coating of grit to give it permanency and durability.
Michael was there, hand outstretched in friendship.
From that moment on things just got better and better. Mike introduced us to his fellow enthusiasts. One lady among a group of six men. Charmaine had been 23 years in the Military Police. She was stalwart, straight backed, sharper than a box of knives. And she plunged into the games with the same considered application and verve that I daresay she displayed during her illustrious Army Career. We played two games of Triples. All 'mix and match.' Their team and ours. It was not fast and furious. Or slow and lugubrious. It was a learning curve for us all. Our wonderful hosts more than made up for any Petanque short falls. They were gracious, as keen as mustard, humorous, humble, willing, courteous. They were a joy. To talk to, to be with, to play with, to laugh and joke with and share light hearted banter. Already, at the end of the game, they had picked up the rudiments of the rules, had watched first hand how our Shooters dispatched the opposition's boule and were developing some excellent 'pointing' techniques.
We retired hot and thirsty to the Cafe for refreshments and 'after game' discussion. Such a positive group of people. Full of optimism and determination. Mike had made vast leaps in such a short length of time. The Piste erected, two classes of local school children already 'hooked' on the game after playing with the Pensioners. Smaller boules for juniors having been bought ready for the job. Scoreboards made and ready. Just disabled access to get implemented. Want a job done? Don't go to Trust a Trader! The Chelsea Pensioners will be there in a tick. Job done and dusted. Bull dog spirit alive and kicking.
We left with goodie bags and the promise that we will see them in the near future. At their Piste or up to ours, here in the Chiltern Region. Such glorious anticipation. Somehow, gently and magically, those honourable and proud Pensioners, crept into our hearts and stole them. Without a drop of blood being shed. Incredible.