THE BACKYARD MARATHON CHALLENGE
John Ghent embarks on the long road to the Barcelona International
Having been inspired to take to my iPad to write this, the first of hopefully many articles relating to our wonderful sport, I feel the need to tell you a little bit about myself.
My name is John Ghent, better known to some of the pigeon fraternity in Leicester as Mush, a nickname still used for me by Grandad to this day. Having been born and bred in Leicester, I now reside about 400 yards from where I was born in a two bed terraced house, in the Newfoundpool area of Leicester. The pigeon bug first bit me at the age of 11; whilst my sister went to dance classes I would sit with my Grandad, Alan Farmer, and wait for the birds on a Saturday morning (they nearly always went up early in the mid 90s). It was then the day came when I uttered the words, "Grandad, can I come down the club with you tonight?" The rest, as they say, is history. I started up on my own the following season and duly had a brief amount of limelight flying in the then strong New Parks NRFC and the Leicester North Road Fed. Three seasons in and my interest was waining, what with girls, schoolwork, friends and football. The birds went.
As many of you will no doubt agree, the interest never leaves but merely subsides, and I was always popping up Grandad's, continued to work at Blackpool where my Uncle Gaz and I are a regular fixture in the bars and the Winter Gardens (usually with a sorehead as Scott Summers can vouch for), and had a general interest in the goings on in the pigeon world. With my very supportive fiancé, Emma, and after a few months of early starts, making the 5 mile journey to my Grandad's in the mornings to help with birds before going to work, it was decided in about April of this year that I would give it a go from my house. If I don't try, I'll never know.
And so the story begins...
The Backyard Marathon Challenge
Pigeon fanciers, racing pigeons, this sport of ours - all continue to surprise me. I don't know why as I should know that records are there to be broken and fantastic achievements are accomplished every week up and down the UK.
My return to the sport has been fuelled by stories of International champions, 800 mile successes and article upon article on long distance greats in Britain, Ireland, Europe, Australia, New Zealand and even Taiwan, The Philippines and Malta.
I am staring into the face of adversity with a new found confidence having read about remarkable men and women within our sport that have accomplished so much with what seems like so little. Dave Posey's Dax win from his small garden loft, The Fabulous Five for the Dunn family, Mark Gilbert's one from one in the Marseille International have all inspired me to take on the marathon challenge to the humble grounds of Newport Street in Leicester.
As you will see, hardly an ideal drop and location, but this makes it all the more exciting and challenging! Leicester is not exactly a hotbed of International racing but as Jim Emerton's protege Nicholas Harvey has proved, where there is a will there is a way, and that way I shall find. Through sheer determination I shall reach my goal.
The drop at Newport Street
The goal is simple, or so it seems. Clock from Barcelona. Nothing more, nothing less. Barcelona is deep in my heart - I get goosebumps just thinking about it. The excitement I had this year when I heard the birds were up was overwhelming, and I had not even sent. The look of confusion on my work colleagues’ faces when I was explaining what was happening in the Spanish city, better known for Messi, Xavi and Iniesta as opposed to Gilbert, Buddle and Halstead, was pure frustration for me. Not only is this wonderful city the Mecca of the pigeon world (along with Blackpool obviously) but it is the place I rediscovered myself 4 years ago, in the midst of relationship breakdown, work problems and a mid-life crisis at the age of 24! I have a lot to thank Barcelona for, although I fear it will consume me, torment me, tease me and possibly change me forever as it takes me on this journey.
My old bird loft
Having started my quest this year with some birds from my Grandad, two converted garden sheds, a home made trap and lots of enthusiasm, the winter will be spent preparing my plans for the first year of racing yearlings. Trained as young birds but unraced, they shall be tested firmly. The basket will be the judge and will make all my decisions. The stock will not be selected on pedigree or hearsay, all birds will be tested and the best shall remain. The long winter nights will have me reading more and more about marathon champions: John Clements' "Long Distance Pigeon Racing" and Cameron Stansfield's "Roads To Rome" will probably be memorised come March and then the real work will start. "Get a plan and stick to it" is what my Grandad has always said. He should know, he's flown for 50 years, scribed as The Farmer and has forgotten more about pigeons then I will probably ever know.
My young bird loft complete with guard rabbits!
So there we have it, an introduction to me, my goals and the "Backyard Marathon Challenge." Jim Emerton's articles have inspired me every time I have read them and one message is present in most, if not all. Send them.
International racing is what will keep this sport alive, it will bring more people into the sport, offer us more prestige and better prize money. We all must pull together to make this happen and challenge the European domination of the Internationals.
I have a huge year ahead with all this planning, a new job on the horizon and a wedding in August 2013. The stag-do is a Thursday to Sunday affair in late June or early July in a place that I am quite a big fan of, to coincide with a particular event, much to my Best Man's amusement. Can you guess? Adios por ahora.
