This semester, I joined a fencing class. It’s been three weeks and I have already acquired bruises and have gotten to stab some people. You could say it’s going pretty well. And don’t worry – when I say stab, I mean jab into their stomach while they are wearing a so-called protective jacket. I’ve got to say, the jacket, breast plate and arm protector are good, but not great. I had sore ribs for about a week and I could barely get up because my abdomen was so sore.
When the new year started, I was very excited for my fencing class and I enjoy it now. But starting out? Not so much. There were a lot of people who seemed a little too excited, people who I would call “extra” – you know, the kind that really enjoy stabbing people and may possibly be psychopaths…I jest.
Fencing is interesting because you don’t want to hurt anyone, but you also don’t really want anyone to end up stabbing you because then they get a point and win. And you lose. And sadness ensues.
When you are fencing someone, you both start with your swords pointed at each other’s chest or head and then you attack. You are the target; there is no goal or homerun, it’s either you hit them or they hit you.
It’s kind of a weird sport because you might be friends with the person you’re battling, but you have to do whatever you can to beat them, and when it’s all over, you take off your helmets and you are high fiving your opponent for poking you in the chest with a sword.
I feel like I’ve played every sport there is, and I can honestly say that fencing really is a sport like no other, but if you have ever dreamed of taking someone down with a sword, then this is the sport for you.