Theo ran up to me just as I finished my latest lesson, his little foil in one hand, a bunch of candy canes in the other and a Santa hat swaying back and forth on top of his head. His little cheeks were flush, and he was panting after running around the studio for the past fifteen minutes, giving out candy canes like a pint-sized, sword-wielding Santa Claus. "Hey, thanks, kiddo," I said, taking one of the candy canes he held out to me. "Are you going to teach me another move today?"
"Not today," Theo frowned. "I have to practice for a competition."
Apparently, one of the reasons for Theo's elation was not just because the holidays were in the air, but also because he was recently selected to compete in a local Westchester fencing bout. I high-fived Theo in congratulations and asked him how the competitions are set up. Apparently, they are divided into categories by age and the type of weapon used. For example, the category of junior foil would encompass all fencers between the ages of 8-12. Intermediate épée covers all such fencers between the ages of 14-18. The competition is county-wide, but also attracts fencing schools from both the city and upstate New York. At our school, tryouts for all positions are held over a two-day period. To be selected is one of the highest honors the Academy can bestow upon a student. While the adults such as myself treat these fencing lessons as merely recreational, they are almost a way of life for the younger students, some of whom have been studying fencing since they could practically walk.
Theo beckoned me over to five fencing lanes in the corner of the room, where the intermediate sabre tryouts were occurring. The air was suddenly filled with heavy metal clangs, the electric buzzing of points being scored and the frenzied intensity of young boys and girls vying for a coveted spot among those who would represent the Academy's finest. About ten fencers were battling their way to victory or defeat, and Theo informed me that I was watching the semi-final rounds. Originally, approximately twenty-five teenaged sabre fighters tried out, and these were the cream of the crop.
In each lane (or piste, in technical fencing parlance), two fencers would square off against each other while a scorekeeper would keep track of who won each round. After three rounds, the fencers would rotate, and at the end of the night, all of the scores would be tallied and the winners announced on the following day. Theo and I each picked our favorites: his was a young girl with a small ponytail sticking out from the back of her helmet ("She's really pretty," Theo sheepishly confided in me), while mine was a tall, lanky boy who was quick on his feet and won three rounds in a row. We watched as our favorites eventually met in the center piste for a showdown.
The chosen fighters would be part of the Academy's prestigious competition team. In team competitions, matches are typically three minutes long, or up to five points. Typically, there are five matches in a competition, making the highest possible score 45 points. Unlike foil competitions, where points can be scored only by making contact with an opponent's torso with the tip of the foil, sabre competitors can score points with either the tip or cutting edges of the sabre anywhere above an opponent's waist, including the head and arms.
The chosen fighters would be part of the Academy's prestigious competition team. In team competitions, matches are typically three minutes long, or up to five points. Typically, there are five matches in a competition, making the highest possible score 45 points. Unlike foil competitions, where points can be scored only by making contact with an opponent's torso with the tip of the foil, sabre competitors can score points with either the tip or cutting edges of the sabre anywhere above an opponent's waist, including the head and arms.
"I'll bet you one candy cane that the girl wins," Theo whispered excitedly. "You're on, mister," I responded, shaking his hand. With that, our two chosen fencers engaged each other in a truly dizzying display of clashing metal, lightning-quick reflexes and footwork so fast that they seemed to practically fly back and forth across the lane. Unlike a foil match where the strikes are more limited to straight thrusts and lunges, strikes in sabre matches range from straight thrusts to swiping cuts and slicing arcs. As we watched intently, the boy faked a left lunge, but at the last minute, changed his stance and landed a hit on the girl's upper torso. Not to be outdone, the girl then scored two quick, slicing hits in rapid succession, her sabre cutting through the air with a majestic swish! The boy tried to parry about a split second too late. Theo and I were getting out of breath just watching them.
Another thing I noticed was how much more effort it took for them to aim their strikes with the sabres, which are much heavier than a mere foil. In addition, the enlarged, bell-curved hilt makes it more challenging to aim the sabre, although it does provide greater protection to one's sword hand. Within the first minute, both fencers were drenched in sweat, and their breathing came from behind their masks in quick huffs with each lunge, slice and parry. Truly, these two were among the best of the best at the Academy.
At the end of the match (which the girl won), Theo toddled up to the girl and chatted her up, his eyes filled with a small puppy crush. Clearly, he was enjoying his best Christmas ever. And I went home with my own small Christmas present: a smile on my face, another round of education in this wonderful sport and, as the old Christmas poem goes, visions of sabres dancing in my head.
And with that, dear readers, may I say, "Happy holidays to all, and to all a good night!"
And with that, dear readers, may I say, "Happy holidays to all, and to all a good night!"
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