Dédé was passionate about “pétanque”, a quintessential French pastime. He started playing in his native France when he was a kid and took his skills with him when he moved to America. After years of practice, he became a good but not an outstanding player, a subject which weighed on him. He was determined to show his peers that he was capable of greatness.
He always dreamed of having his name engraved on the Cup, a prestigious event held every four years. Some summers, he came tantalizing close to success, but something always got in the way: second-rate partners, biased umpires, rotten luck… Sometimes, he felt cursed.
This year though, he was determined to succeed. But this project would require some finesse and Dédé knew it would not be easy.
This tournament was billed as a “select mixed triplette,” meaning that at least one woman had to be part of this three-person formation.
Winning that cup was no small achievement, and contenders came from far and wide to vie for the honor of having their names etched on the prestigious trophy. There were to be no cash prizes, but money was of little importance when compared with the glory of being publicly recognized by your peers.
To achieve his goal, Dédé had to secure solid partners, and this would require some subtlety. He viewed himself as a good player, but this alone was insufficient. Not only did he have to obtain the services of a solid “shooter”, but he also had to entice a woman to play with him, and this was one of the many challenges he had to overcome.
The “misogynous” label that stubbornly clung to his back didn’t help. Women had the unfortunate knack of remembering past slights, and only a precious few would be disposed to forgive and forget. But he was a reliable player he kept telling himself, and some women might be willing to forget past derogatory remarks to achieve their ambitions
Securing a good “shooter” would also be difficult. In the small world of pétanque, skilled shooters were celebrities, and very conscious of their lofty status. They also had a sizable ego and didn’t care to endanger their reputation by associating with minor players.
This undertaking could be difficult… Just like asking a pretty girl for a date… with the ever-present possibility of being turned down… But sometimes you must eat crow to become a prince.
And the hell with humiliation! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He could be charming with a lady if the situation demanded it. He could also be very persuasive with men, even if their stars shone brighter than his.
So, he started his stealthy campaign.
Alain
To be continued…