A ri­fle shooter’s day

Daily Nation (Barbados) - - Comment -

AS A JOKE, I chal­lenged some of my friends from Water­ford, who shoot lit­tle short equip­ment (pis­tols), to turn up at their an­nual Glock Shoot which took place last Sun­day, and knock spots off them after a day’s prac­tice. They took the bait.

I turned up dressed as they do, with my lit­tle black pis­tol strapped in a hol­ster in easy reach, just above my right knee, cow­boy fash­ion. They took one look at me and smirked widely.

Note, ri­fle­men shoot 40 times fur­ther than pis­to­laros do, out to 1 000 yards, and our equip­ment (ri­fles) are very much longer and more so­phis­ti­cated to say the least. They shoot a measely 25 yards, at the ex­treme.

Game al­most over, I thought. I joined the fir­ing line, with about 20 of them squint­ing eyes and hands perched just over the butts, of our pis­tols. I was ready.

A short fel­low who was nois­ily drag­ging a shovel around, shouted “Watch and shoot” and con­tin­ued, “Yes, you too Cap­tain King”. Laugh­ter fol­lowed.


I ig­nored him and then the tar­gets ap­peared with a clang, hands flashed down and up with pis­tols in hands as if by magic with roar­ing noises. I went for my piece too, with equal speed, and came up with my bor­rowed piece to join the fun and the tar­gets dis­ap­peared from whence they came, be­fore I could squeeze the trig­ger.

“I was not ready,” I bel­lowed. I was wait­ing for what we get on the ri­fle range such as “Are you ready, gen­tle­men”, “Watch and good luck” and that sort of thing.

It was a magic day of skill and marks­man­ship, which al­most equalled that of the se­nior dis­ci­pline, full­bore ri­fle shoot­ing.

Those who give the sport less than the sup­port de­served, should take time out to at­tend some of what is on of­fer and wit­ness unique ath­letes per­form at the high­est level. I shall re­turn next year.

Be­fore I go, I asked the shovel-car­ry­ing man, who turned out to be the range of­fi­cer in charge of ac­tiv­i­ties, why he was car­ry­ing the shovel and he re­torted that it was to shovel up the . . . I was about to shoot. Hor­ri­ble lit­tle fel­low. – CAP­TAIN BILL KING

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