"Mikel" drabbles by Neville Hunt
The pelota thickens
Mikel #3
When I mentioned Mikel to my son today, he merely sighed.
“I always reckoned I was a pretty good all rounder at sports, but Mikel made me realise I was a sporting lightweight!”
I’d seen Mikel’s skill with a rifle and how instinctively he took to sailing a boat, but I hadn’t realised he was the Under 18s Basque Pelota Champion for the entire Basque region and, at 16, he was a regular player for Mont de Marsan Under 21s rugby team.
What’s more, my niece told me how ‘seriously good looking’ Mikel was.
Some guys have all the luck!
What a turn-up!
Mikel #2
Mikel was very sporty. He seemed to excel in all sports. He was a natural. He joined us on our annual holiday to Salcombe.
The boys played ball games and British Bulldogs on the beach and swam. I preferred to be on, not in, the water so I’d been out sailing my Topper dinghy. I offered Mikel a turn. He left the beach at speed as it was very windy. I watched from afar as he capsized, righted the craft and was off again. When he returned, exhilarated, he mentioned that he’d never been in a boat before.
Oopsy-daisy!
“Pull!”
Mikel #1
Mikel; half-French, half-Spanish. Sixteen years old and my elder son’s French exchange. He was a very nice young man.
We went to a mates’s farmhouse to shoot clay pigeons. Mikel came too and he and my son were given the chance to shoot. Jeremy was there. Jeremy shoots regularly. Jeremy is a hell of a knowall!
Mikel took the gun. Jeremy rabbited on to him about how to hold the gun, bla, bla, bla... Mikel understood nothing, except the word....
...“Pull!”
Two at a time the clays shot up. Mikel smashed every one!
Jeremy’s flabber was totally gasted!
