AT THE PROMPTING of Atters, I have been talked into doing a report of last month's Chap Olympiad. Whilst it is not really a 'sanctioned event', I have agreed to the request for a number of reasons. Firstly it was something of a hoot, secondly Atters now seems to have made the next Newsletter contingent on my doing it, and finally he was sent this rather excellent cartoon by a young (which by Attree standards might mean anything under fifty) fellow called Matthew Boyington, intended for The Chap magazine but which missed the deadline, and it would be such a shame to waste it.

The Chap magazine's Editor of Roguery and "Official Bounder" Michael "Atters" Attree, (pictured in centre) officially refereeing the Lobster Moustache Duelling event at the 2008 Chap Olympics. Cartoon by Matthew Boyington.

I got an email from my illustrious chum D. Hill Esq. last month entitled ‘Chap Olympiad’. That email went as follows:

From:    D Hill
Date:    12 July 2008 11:36
To:      Andy Lear
Subject: Chap Olympiad

Hi Andy,

Are you going this year?

Regards

Dave

No mention of when it was or where. It turned out that he had given me all of about three days notice and didn't know where it was either. That Saturday, however, was free so I replied in the affirmative. Having that week introduced his iPod to the delights of the wash-cycle of his Hotpoint, Dave needed to pop into London to try and get it replaced, so we agreed to meet up at the event, assuming that we could find it.

All I had to go on was "Hampstead Heath", so I took the train there. As luck would have it, just before arriving at the station, a chap entered the railway carriage that could simply not have been going anywhere else. I doffed my Panama, and he reciprocated with his Fedora, so we got chatting and it transpired that his name was Patrick and he had far more of an idea of where he was going than I did, so he was promptly elevated to the position of guide.

They had hardly made it easy. The scheme was that people were supposed to go to various generally Chap-related shops in London, such as hat shops, pipe shops, etc., and garner clues to the location of the event. I don't think anyone actually did though. Alighting at Hampstead Heath station we headed into the wilderness, gathering up a collection of equally lost Chaps and Chapesses en route. The instructions (and some members of the party had managed to get hold of them) were more than a little vague, but we did well to find the venue after about a 45 minute trek. The first think I noticed was that although it was something of a mission to find, there were loads of people there already, and we were not that late. The second thing I noticed was there was no bar! I sent a panicked text to Mr Hill saying "No bar! Bring much beer!", hoping that Dave would receive and act on my missive. Meanwhile I accepted the hospitality of my guide who, far more efficient than I, had opened up his briefcase to remove a groundsheet and a bottle of scotch.

The first event that I was aware of was the Cucumber Sandwich Discus. The rules seemed simple enough. Each contestant was armed with a cucumber sandwich on a plate which they had to throw, the object being to achieve the minimum distance between sandwich and plate on landing. Some entered into the spirit of the thing with much grunting and leaping, others tried more Machiavellian approaches and one fellow was declared the winner with the rather caddish ruse of folding the plate around the sandwich so that the two could not part company and bowling it. Declaring a winner before all contestants had finished might have deprived some contestants (myself included) of a chuck, so half a dozen of us assembled for a 'mass chuck'. However things took a turn for the even better when one of our number in a superb sergeant-major impression barked "Squad Liiiine Uuuuup!" and astonishingly it worked. We were then marched in perfect sync back three paces, turned round, marched forward, plates put on ground, marched back and the final command "Squaaad Assume Throwing Positiiiiiooonn", which was a perfect photo-opportunity but as far as I know no one took a photo of it. Typical!

Speaking of photos, the one on the left might not, under normal circumstances, be one to gladden the heart and make one think 'Ohh thank goodness', but when the owner of such a ginger moustache is carrying two Safeway carrier bags full of beer, then believe me he is a sight for sore eyes. Dave had saved the day. He was not best pleased with Apple Inc, since after keeping him waiting for an hour in the shop, they declined to replace his iPod on the grounds that the inbuilt water-detector had dobbed him in with respect to the washing machine incident.

The next event was something to do with attacking beards and moustaches with plastic lobsters. I had no idea what was going on but I suspect that I was in the majority there. Other events were the "Hop, Skip and G&T", "Greco-Roman wrestling", and my other event, "The Hundred Yard Saunter". The Olympiad ended (with some of the contestants still sauntering), and we headed off to a pub, [What a suprise! Ed.] where a few more gin and tonics were sunk. Dave had to get back, but I had by that time been absorbed by a contingent from the New Sheridan Club, [www.newsheridanclub.co.uk if you want to visit it], and we headed off to another pub where I stayed until throwing out time, getting home at about one in the morning and having a well deserved 'morning head' the next day.