A GOOD SPORT

Greymouth Evening Star, 14 March 1922, Page 3

A GOOD SPORT

AT THE ROAD RACE.

(By

F.E.L.)

He was a little man, with a drooping moustache, a hard hat, and a walking stick. He drooped as he walked (like his moustache) and in his [eyes was a far-away look (some uncharitable persons would describe it as bleary). It was Saturday afternoon, and a large crowd practically blocked the roadway in Tamui Street; even the Karoro 'bus could hardly get through. Surely there must > have been something going on? Yes, there was. —a I road race; there was also the hotel on tlie corner. What has a road race to do with an hotel ? Well, in the ordinary way of things they would certainly have nothing in common. But this hotel was situated right at the point where the race started and finished. The publican is now a firm believer in the old saying that “it’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good.’’ Before, during, and after the race he worked so hard in the bar (with several pacemakers vo assist him) that he was more tired that the cyclists were after putting ten miles of road behind them. He granted the riders the use of his hotel as a dressing room, and will no doubt donate a trophy on condition that the next race, starts in the same place! The scratch man shot away, taking I the good wishes of the crowd with I him, and 1 turned away. The droopI ing moustache loomed before me, tho > far-away look in the eyes above it I concentrated slowly and painfully until it rested on me, and a husky voice i met my ears in the West Coast introduction, “Have a spot, mate!’’ Being | on the West Coast, and recognising the wisdom of “doing as the Romans do,” I had a spot. We were friends. [ Of all the friendships 1 have ever made, none progressed so rapidly as i that did during the 27min 40 secs duration of that road race. Into so short a space was compressed the story of a life that had lasted, I estimated, between 40 and 50 years. he had < another spot (my second, but my friend’s—well, he couldn’t remember trifles like that). The refreshment inspired further details of the life storv and when my third spot appeared 1 knew him almost as well as a brother would. 'So engrossed was he and so graphic his description that

when his outflung arm swept his glats off the bar lie didn’t notice the occurrence, and the empty glass he picked up later caused only a mild look of surprise to cross his face. The third story of the same lite was rudely interrupted by a iJiisiness-iibe member of the Athletic Club, who was taking advantage oi tnc oppoitunity to enrol new members of the Club, at 5/- per head, lie was a quick woikci, and made much nay Willie the sun shone. No doubt the drooping moustache caught his attention ; perhaps he thought a little athletics would cure the droop. “What about you, he said, breezily: “you ought to be a member. Only 5/-, and that includes admission to the sports and alternoon tea.’’ 31 y friend was a sport. His hand strayed in the direction of. nis trousers pocket, the while he explained at some length that although he did not actively participate in sport —hie—he had the interests of the game at heart, and would be pleased to honour the Club with his financial support. The young men should be encouraged, they should be looked after, and—he drew out a note —they were going to have one friend at least. The thanks of the business-like member were graciously accepted as well as 5/- change, and he turned to me with another instalment <>f his story. 1 have concluded that it was a serial after all, and will probably be continued at our next meeting, if opportunity offers. There arc sd many wags in the world (hat I should have known that at least one of them would be present at that road race. However, one lives and learns. An excited voice, was heard in the room, “Here he comes!” and I joined the stampede at greet the winner. Ho came all right—a boy on a bike (it had once upon a time deserved the distinction of “bicycle”). Idle crowd took the joke against itself in good part, and also took my friend --moustache, hard hat. walking stick, and all. He was still missing five minutes later, when the winner did arrive, and 1 have never seen him again.