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Sidelines
Kalani Simpson
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Bagpipes play as frying pans fly
EVERY sport should have a bagpipes soundtrack. And I mean up to and including pro basketball.
And so it was in that spirit that I spent several hours at Kapiolani Park yesterday to take in the Hawaiian Scottish Festival -- and yesterday's featured sport, the Housewife Games.
Unfortunately, Eva Longoria and Nicollette Sheridan did not show up.
Many of you may be vaguely familiar with Scottish sports -- heaving huge weights and flipping tall poles. "It was a way to keep the warrior tradition alive when they weren't allowed to use weapons," explains official and participant Dane Music, who also explains the myth about not wearing underwear, and kilts.
Cool. But this day was for the Scottish Housewife Games. Throwing frying pans and rolling pins for distance; and an accuracy event in which the athletes toss a bag of haggis -- as Dave Barry would say, "Bag of Haggis" would be an excellent name for a rock band -- as close as possible to the center of the frying pan.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is my kind of event. Throwing frying pans. Bagpipes as background music.
They even use a specially made frying pan. "We used to use real frying pans," Music says. "They go really far, but the handles kept breaking." Now the cast-iron skillet has been traded in for a fiberglass model.
After walking in the Scottish Festival's daily parade (they made him, he made me), Music and I head for the field. "We've even got a First Aid guy for the first time in 19 years!" he says.
I am introduced to Mary Peddie, who along with her husband, Dan, is among those who help organize the event. She'll be competing for the third time. How does she train -- by throwing frying pans at Dan?
"I no need train!" she says, and laughs. She's right. She would finish third.
As time goes by more and more women amble up. Janice Ching says she would enter "just because it sounded fun." But she says she hadn't exercised in a year. Some excuse like she has a 1-year-old son, or something. "They're getting the real housewife," she says, as her boy beams and munches oatmeal cookie crumbs.
A "senior" lady shows up. Not newly senior, either. Asks to grab a pan. "When I get mad at someone I want to know the best way to throw it," she says. She laughs, but I think she could do it.
"That gal's in my aerobics class," her friend says.
Three young girls approach Peddie. Any other events today? Peddie tells them about the "Kilted Mile," in which you wear a kilt and run a mile, presumably to get both out of the way at once.
"That sounds like fun!" one girl says. "We should do that, but not wear a kilt!"
I think I would rather wear the kilt but not do the mile.
Gradually, the Housewife Games number grows. Music gives some instruction.
"There's not much instruction," he says. "It's basically to take (a frying pan) and throw it. Just try not to hit anyone in the field." He thinks about that for a second. "Well I guess it's up to you," he says.
At last, we begin. An auntie introduces herself to everyone, makes sure the women all bond. They throw rolling pins, with varying degrees of success. After every effort, they all applaud. With every heave, there is small-kid joy.
They switch to the frying pan. The young girl who is fetching the objects sprints at the news, yelling, "Whoo! Frying pan! The frying pan!" with the-new-phone-book-is-here enthusiasm.
This is a slow-moving sport -- it's like running the shot put and the discus back to back, long line, one throw at a time.
But everybody grins. The lilt of Celtic fiddles fills the air.
Watching is one Graham Black, who is from Arbroath, Scotland, and has the brogue to prove it. Do people do this in Scotland?
"I've never seen this," he says.
He takes many pictures. Probably as proof for his "Crazy Americans" stories.
In the last event, they throw the haggis. Lisa Hassen, who finished second, gets it in the pan, a half inch from the very center. We all cheer. All the competitors throw their arms in the air in triumph.
But the winner was Ono Bane. She threw the rolling pin 65 feet, 8 1/2 inches. Her frying pan went 72 feet. "This is great," she says, proud family all around.
Her boys wanted her to enter, she says. Will she use these newfound pan-throwing skills at home? Only if she gets upset at having to cook too much, she says.
Her boys have been warned.
I head home, after a day of watching women wield rolling pins, throw frying pans, and handle something called "haggis."
My wife wants to know what I'm writing about.
"Beach volleyball," I say.