Au Cochonnet Marin

Hey Robert, he said one day, “Do you like pheasants?” I have a couple of them, and if you are available next Sunday, I’d be happy to share them with you.

Le Gros Robert was slightly surprised by this unexpected invitation, but he was not a man to pass up a good meal.

OK, he said. Very kind of you. Thank you.

-What are friends for? My wife will be very pleased to see you, said Dédé grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Next, he decided to go on the prowl for a female partner.

Good women players were also well aware of their talents and as much in demand as their male counterparts. But they were also more difficult to read… and they could keep a grudge for a very long time… Blasted women!

He approached Pauline first. She was an excellent player, but she also had a long memory and a sharp tongue.

-Hey Pauline, he said, you look good today. Is that a new haircut? If you were not married, I would make a pass at you.

-Dédé, if I didn’t know you better, I would think that you meant it.

-I meant it, Pauline, I meant it.

-OK Dédé, what do you want? You are are not buttering me up for nothing… You must want something…

-Pauline, you are unkind. Can’t a guy pay a compliment to a lady without having any second thoughts?

-A normal guy yes, but coming from you it sounds a little odd… So again, what is it that you want?

-You are a little harsh Pauline… but since you ask… How would you like to play with me at the Cup tournament?

-The Cup?

-Yes Pauline, the Cup. I am looking for a good woman partner and I thought of you first.

-I see.

-I’ll probably play with Le Gros Robert… If you join our team, we’ll have a dynamite formation…

-Very kind of you, but I don’t care much for Robert… he is not a pleasant fellow… and frankly Dédé you get on my nerves…

-How is that?

-You talk too much. You are like a fly on a horse… And this is only one of the reasons why I won’t play with you.

-Pauline, I promise to hold my tongue. Let bygones be bygones… play with me and you won’t regret it.

-No Dédé I am sorry… I won’t play with you!

-OK, Pauline, I understand your reluctance to play with Le Gros Robert. But I am pretty sure that I can get the Corsican to play with us instead. You don’t have anything against him, do you?

-Well…

-All right then, if I get the Corsican will you play with us?

-I don’t know… You caught me off guard…

-Don’t you want to win Pauline? Don’t you want to see your name on the Cup?

-All right, all right… if you get the Corsican, I’ll play with you guys.

-OK, Pauline, it’s a deal. I’ll get Pasqualini. But promise me to turn down any other offer…

-I promise.

-You won’t be sorry Pauline. The three of us will be unbeatable.

Alain

To be continued…

There were four renowned “shooters” in the club, but he ruled out two of them right off the bat. There was too much bad blood between them and himself. That left only two: “Le Gros Robert” and “The Corsican”.

As his name indicated, Le Gros Robert was a stout, taciturn fellow endowed with astonishing skills. Unlike other renowned pitchers, he didn’t need undue concentration before firing his shots. He would step to the plate and let his “boules” fly. He was respected for his skills but disliked at the same time for his uncouth demeanor.

The Corsican on the other hand was an irascible, wiry little fellow who could hit a fly forty feet away. No small accomplishment when the average player struggled to hit a target barely thirty feet away. Both of these fellows would make excellent partners but the problem was their testy nature.

Traditionally, the “shooter” is the playmaker orchestrating the team’s strategy. He “suggests” to each player what and when to do it. He is the boss, and you rarely second-guess him.

Dédé was not a real shooter, but he liked to have a say in the strategy he followed, and his partners did not always appreciate this propensity.

In a pétanque game played in a “triplette” formation, each player is allocated two “boules” and has a specific role to fulfill. The “pointer” plays first. His job is to position his boules as closely as possible to the “cochonnet”, the little wooden jack that is the target.

The “milieu” (middle player) takes over when the pointer has played his two boules. He will try to position his boules closer to the cochonnet than those of the opposing team. If the situation demands it, he should also be able to act as a relief shooter.

The “shooter” is the gunslinger, the enforcer. His task is to neutralize the opposition with surgical strikes. But since he has only two shots in his quiver, he must use his boules judiciously. He must decide when to shoot and when to show restraint, and only he will make that decision.

Le Gros Robert was an aggressive player who never hesitated to shoot. The Corsican on the other hand was a more cautious fellow who would think twice before squandering his boules. But none of these two fellows took suggestions kindly. Their decisions were not open to discussion.

Unfortunately, Dédé couldn’t help second-guessing the captain’s decisions, which had led to spirited exchanges in the past. He would have to control himself and keep his mouth shut—even if he knew better. But first, he had to secure the services of one of these two fellows.

He knew that Le Gros Robert was a serious eater and he thought that it would be easier to seduce him than the Corsican; so, he decided to approach him first.

Since Dédé ’s wife was an excellent cook, he resolved to entice Le Gros Robert through his stomach.

Alain

To be continued…

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…