Have you ever experienced the ring of a horseshoe? It’s called a “ringer” for a reason. Not only will you hear the unmistaken “ring” of the horseshoe hitting its target, but you also will probably experience the exultant applause of both fellow players and spectators. It really is a sporting feat unlike any other, particularly in the world of backyard sports.
It is doubtful that that the game of horseshoes was featured in the Olympic games of ancient Greece, but legend has it that the poorer Greek classes used old horseshoes to throw at stakes in the ground rather than “quoits,” which were used by the upper classes. This practice was passed down over the centuries to peasants in medieval Britain until later, in the late nineteenth century and continuing into present day, all classes participated in chucking the old farrier apparatus around.
The game has obviously been enjoyed by people of all walks of like: from ancient and medieval peasants to modern-day presidents such as Harry S. Truman and George H.W. Bush. Yes, there have been dirt tracks with horseshoe pits from every country farm and suburban backyard all the way to the grounds of the White House itself.
A quick primer for you the reader just in case you have not had the pleasure of enjoying this leisurely pastime. The game is usually played with either two or four players. Each single player of twosome of players are situated behind hard, iron stakes, which are lengthy enough to be firmly entrenched in the soil of a dirt pit, or long shallow hole anywhere from two to three feet in diameter. These stakes are about twenty-five to thirty feet apart. If players are one-on-one or “singles” (as in the game of tennis) each will throw their horseshoes from one end and then alternate ends after they have thrown their turn of two horseshoes each. If players are “doubles,” then there will be one teammate on each end, and the players will stay on that end for the duration of the game. The goal of the game is to toss the horseshoe at the stake on the opposite end and get it as close to the stake as possible. Points per toss depend on how close the horseshoe gets to the stake: one point for being closest to the stake, three points for leaning on the stake, and finally five points for landing on and surrounding the stake. The first player or team to reach twenty five points wins the game. Lastly, the winning single or team must win by two points.
I have played and enjoyed this game at various times during my lifetime. My earliest recollection “throwin’ shoes” is probably at summer camp or at the beach as a young boy. Since this game is often enjoyed with a cold beer in the opposite hand of the throwing hand, it is safe to assume that my fraternity house had a “pit” somewhere on the property (though said beer or beers and brotherly jovial times may cloud my memory to some extent). Then there were the various buddy trips, or as we called them “fishin’ tourneys” (in order to subconsciously mislead our wives that we would be engaging in angling endeavors rather than the 24/7, three day bacchanalia that actually occurred).
But the one game of horseshoes I most remember was played during my high school days. I will never forget it. It has been brought up and talked about from the most informal of occasions to rehearsal dinners. It has been recollected by yours truly with a shaking of my head and/or a grin and an out-loud chuckle. It was a game played with one of my oldest and best friends and his brothers.
The scenario was the country home of one of my friend’s brothers. I forget the season (Fall, Spring, or Summer), but suffice it to say it was a beautiful mid-afternoon in a scenic, rural area that was perfect for relaxing, laughing with friends, drinking cold beers, and, you guessed it, throwing horseshoes.
This particular friend and his brothers were and are the best of dudes. They are the epitome of what make friends initially and for the duration of a lifetime: good, sharp, sly humor and the occasional shenanigan(s).
Well, this particular afternoon was one of those that made you enjoy friends such as these. And my friend’s brother, the owner of this charming retreat by a small stream out in the country, had just a fine horseshoe pit.
I don’t exactly recall all of the players in this doubles match, except that my friend was one and one of his oldest brothers was another. The fourth shall remain unknown and anonymous, but not by choice.
Well, we were right in the middle of a heated match, the score as close as could be. As a matter of fact, it just might have been toward the end of the game where each and every throw was crucial to the ultimate “thrill of victory or agony of defeat.”
And then it was my turn to throw. A penultimate, extremely important time in the game. In my mind, this was pressure. It was on me: to help win this game and not let my teammate down.
I looked at my target across the field of play. I gripped my horseshoe loosely but tight enough to get it across to the opposite stake. I strategized on how I wanted the throw to be and asked myself how many revolutions, if any, I would want the shoe to turn in the midst of its flight. I positioned my body for the throw, a critical stance if there ever was one.
I then followed through on my strategy with every thing I had and with the purpose of achieving every aforementioned strategy to my throw.
And I let it fly.
I’ll be darned if that shoe didn’t land exactly where it was supposed to land. It landed with the center of the shoe right up against the stake. A ringer. Except …. wait! There wasn’t a ring. Wait a minute!!! Why not!!! Well, I looked up at my friend, opponents, and other spectators of the game, as a classic rock artist once sang, “man, (they) just fell about the place!” Which is to say, they were engaged in hysterical laughter. Belly laughs and lusty guffaws were heard all around. Some were literally rolling around on the ground, some were still standing but bent over.
“What the hell was so funny,?” I thought and possibly verbally exclaimed.
What I did not realize was that my good friends had in fact instigated one of those shenanigan moments.
Without me knowing, under my very near-sighted eyesight, my friend’s brother had in fact removed the stake at which I was attempting to ring with my horseshoe! I do not know at what stage of my throw this was done, but it was in fact done mischievously and secretly, and somehow right in front of me!!!
I had to admit: as embarrassed as I was that I had thrown a horseshoe at a hole and not a stake, it was a good one! That was pretty darn funny! I had indeed thrown a horseshoe, with every intention of getting a ringer, if not as close as possible to the stake, to a stake that was not present. I had thrown my shoe at … a hole.
It was a stakeless pitch. A throw of a shoe whose goal was to ring a stake that was not there. Even in the first place.
To this day, I do not know how that pitch was scored.
I would venture to say, I did not get one, three, or even five points. And why should I score points on a throw of a shoe at a stake that was not there?
