Something primal is invoked when a blade makes contact, and the object of your kill shot shudders upon impact.
Maybe it’s the glint of steel that first appears in your peripheral vision as your arm explodes into action. The torsion of your muscles that flex sharply before suddenly releasing at the crucial moment. Or just the satisfaction of knowing that it’s ‘game over’ even before the weapon strikes home. Such a beautiful moment, it’s hard not to get all dewy eyed.
We’ve done all manner of things as a family, and if your finger is hovering over your keypad as you contemplate calling the Police, don’t worry we haven’t killed anyone yet.
I’ll admit to a few cuts and bruises, and the occasional dented ego, but it’s all self-inflicted without the slightest hint of malice.
Our latest foray into the world of weapons based pastimes was axe throwing at ‘Whistle Punks’ in Manchester. Having shot the odd gun, slung the occasional knife, and fired more than a few arrows between us (not at each other!); how the hell haven’t we done this before?
Ryan, Em and I pitched up early, grabbed a coffee, and positioned ourselves towards the back of the waiting area to watch as our fellow would-be ‘Bunyans’ arrived. I swore that if I spied anyone wearing a ‘thousand-yard stare’ or talking to themselves, then we’d get the hell outta there before the carnage began.
Thankfully everyone was as excited as us, and focused purely on fun. Barely a lumberjack shirt in sight, but more than a few beards worthy of the profession.
The time flew by, as did steel, splinters, and the odd expletive. Hey don’t judge; it’s impossible not to get a little ‘earthy’ when you’re throwing axes. Suddenly it was time to leave and re-enter normality, where the only axes we’ll have to grind are the figurative kind.
It was amusing to see our fellow participants all leave so chilled-out and seemingly at peace. It confirms what I’ve always thought, that visiting one’s dark side once in a while, feeds the beast and keeps it firmly in check.
So as we left the atmospherically lit venue, and emerged into the light of day once more, it felt quite natural that our thoughts segued to food and liquor. The only itch left to scratch on an otherwise perfect day was a yearning for red meat!