When I was a child, I was a voracious reader, particularly captivated by swashbuckling tales. One of my favorite authors was Paul Féval, whose thrilling adventures kept me spellbound for hours.
His greatest triumph in the genre was Le Bossu (1857), which features the legendary swordsman Henri de Lagardère. Disguised as a hunchback, Lagardère sets out to avenge his friend, the Duke de Nevers, who was murdered by the villainous Prince de Gonzague. The novel gave us the mémorable motto: « Si tu ne viens pas à Lagardère, Lagardère ira à toi! » (“If you don’t come to Lagardère, Lagardère will come to you!”)
Lagardère was a dashing and deadly swordsman, feared by powerful enemies who relentlessly hunted him, hoping to silence him forever. Yet, as a gifted contortionist, he often hid beneath the guise of a humble hunchback, melting back into the shadows once his mission was complete. He was the consummate swashbuckler: courteous, daring, and deadly.
Fast forward to yesterday.
I was at the local pétanque field, watching my friends clash in friendly matches, when I couldn’t help but notice the skill of Eddy Pay. Just like Lagardère, he stepped into the arena when needed, carried out his precise and deadly work, and quietly withdrew once his task was done.
Yesterday, he was simply amazing, with a 95% accuracy rate. And what makes him truly admirable is his humility. No boasting or theatrics—just quietly getting the job done and fading into the background. Some call him the “silent killer” or “the silver cobra,” but to me, he is the epitome of a great pétanque player: efficient, modest, and gracious.
Three cheers for Edy Pay—an extraordinary athlete and a very nice fellow to boot!
Alain