Denis Lehane: The Karate Kid of Irish farming
And for my efforts last Sunday morning, I received a blue belt in karate. Yes my dear friends, your favourite farming commentator is now a deadly killing machine.
Of course, some farmers might cry, “What’s the point in a progressive farmer becoming a blue belt in karate?”
Well, there is a great point to it, and if you give me half a chance, I will explain.
Karate for me started about four years ago, my troublesome back being the reason I signed up.
With the old spine starting to creak like a rusty door hinge, my missus demanded that I do something. “Before,” says she, “you end up looking like Quasimodo.”
Anyhow, didn’t I hear about this karate business going on in our local hall. And with my good pal Tim explaining that karate had worked wonders for him, I decided to give it a go.
Now it doesn’t end there, because to get the full value from karate, it isn’t a case of going every now and then. You need to commit to the thing, you have to attend regularly.
Lo and behold, soon I discovered that not only did the back return to full working order, but I found from my head to my toes I was primed up and ready for all kinds of action.
I declare to heaven, ’tis a wonder entirely that I haven’t left my missus and run off with several other women at this stage, with the height of energy that karate has given me.
’Tis no wonder that the likes of Steven Seagal can look so smug in them action movies.
Anyhow, on Sunday I got a blue belt, which means I’m well on the road to one day getting a black belt for my efforts.
But you see there is more to the thing than that, because not only has karate helped my creaking back, it has also worked wonders on the farm.
Last week, for example, while shearing the sheep, even the wiliest of ewes couldn’t get away from me, as I latched on to one after another with lightening speed.
And my bullock with the one testicle has now only to spot a hole in the boundary ditch, and I’m there with the speed of the Bionic Man himself, blocking every escape route.
Taking it all a step further, should I have any red-tape issues with the Department of Agriculture in the future, I imagine if I appeared in my local office wearing my gleaming white karate suit, eyebrows would be raised immediately. By karate chopping a couple of tables, you can be sure any outstanding issues would be resolved pretty quickly.
Yerra, karate has made me invincible entirely, except for one tiny chink in the armour. You see, while karate has worked wonders in every way, my eyesight still remains as poor as ever.
Without my glasses, I’m as blind as a bat, and should someone simply whip the glasses from my face, all my karate skills are of no use.
Take my glasses, and in the blink of an eye, I go from Steven Seagal to Mr Magoo.
However, these minor glitches aside, I still feel karate has been the makings of me. It has sorted out all my creaks and put a mighty spring in my step.
