First off, if anyone ever asked, I would tell them I'm a snowboarder through and through. Still, to do that you need snow and one particular May two years ago I realized I needed a healthy summer hobby. That's when I decided out of nowhere that I wanted to learn how to fence. Not fence like put on a flannel jacket, a pair of steel-toed work boots, and don a yellow hardhat. Fence like the Olympic sport. Fence like where grown adults prance about in tight leotard looking outfits and fancy shoes flailing metal swords at each other.
I fed the words 'Fencing Club' into Google and it dug into its vast database of bullshit and pulled out a shiny diamond. By some miracle, not only did the sport of fencing still exist in my state, but there was a club less than twenty miles from my house--a competitive club at that. Today, two yeas after finding the Desert Fencing Academy, I finally decided to check it out.
So why did it take two years for me to man up, take the short drive up town and witness for the first time the sport of fencing with my own eyes?
I just couldn't see myself as a fencer. I mean really, me participate in a sport that seems like it was derived from a scene in The Count of Monte Cristo? Fencing just seems so ancient, and even if you go off more recent stereotypes I'm not some stuck up elitist. I'm a twenty-four year old shaggy haired kid with tattoos, and I've spent the last five years of my life getting 'radical' on my snowboard up in the mountains. Fuck it though, why not?
When I first walked into the 'studio' I had to laugh. The Desert Fencing Academy shares its space with the local MyGym, an after school/daycare franchise for toddlers to kindergarteners. Carefully stepping over splatters of paint (it was finger painting time for the tiny tots) I found my way into the club headquarters.
The Desert Fencing Academy is a small operation managed by female fencer who has dedicated several decades to keeping the sport alive in a town that probably has no idea what fencing is, nor would more than ninety-percent care to know. Still, the club has been around since 1984, so she must be doing something right.
It's not a large studio by enemies, but capable of running two fencing strips at one time--electric scoreboards and all. The racks of spare swords, jackets and masks tell me that despite it's small stature the DFA (which I will refer to it as from here on out) seems to be doing quite well. I made it clear up front that I was there simply to watch today, and while the coach seemed disappointed that I wouldn't be fencing she welcomed me to take a seat and observe. I must admit that being encouraged to jump right into things was inspiring; seems there is a reason this lady has kept the club open so long. Right off the bat I could tell she was a good coach, and passionate about the sport.
After watching a few bouts between two younger kids, both freshmen in high school (who were quite good, I might add) the adults started walking through the door. I was able to witness a quick lesson. Nothing but slow drills and repetition; not as exciting as the sparring, but you have to learn somehow I suppose.
The clubs star fencer showed up a little after the lesson, and the rag tag crew of fencers--fathers, sons, brothers, and complete strangers--came together like a family, each taking turns sparring or refereeing bout after bout. I have trouble keeping up with the action at times. It baffles me to think that what appears to be random swinging and thrusting of the sword has so much purpose and technique behind it.
One of the members took some time to educate me on the different types of fencing, since I'll be choosing my style when I take my first lesson tomorrow. Foil fencing relies on technique and courtesy, with the target consisting only of the torso and the first fencer to touch gets the point; Epee fencing is much more difficult, since the entire body including the feet score, and fencers can draw earning a point each for touching each other at the same time; Sabre fencing is much more hack and slash, with points scored when any part of the blade makes contact with the mask or torso.
I made sure to stick around to witness some sabre bouts, which are definitely more fast paced with less technique than the other styles. Since I had been watching for several hours, I excused myself and began preparing for my first lesson in the afternoon tomorrow.
And so the journey begins...
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