Cancún 2024 - Restaurant Iguana / The Tournament

In an earlier post from 2017 I mentioned the population of iguanas running around in southern Mexico, comparing them to the squirrels in Houston neighborhoods.  I'd bet that our miniature Australian shepherd Koko, however, would only try to chase these guys once...

There were so many on the resort property that the wait staff and custodians were evidently quite used to shooing them away from customers in the outdoor eating venues. 

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Guns were a big part of growing up for me in Orange, Texas.  From my earliest years I've been enamored with the shooting sports, whether with my friends out in the woods with BB guns or later in life with real firearms.  And so far as I know, I'm the only one of my siblings who took to the hobby/sport in any serious way.

Back in the '60's it was a rite of passage when you received your first BB gun, either as a gift or with months of saved allowance money.  I don't remember ever owning a BB rifle, but remember quite vividly my first BB pistol.  Mine was the pride of my friend group because it could shoot either BB's, pellets, or darts framed in an automatic look-alike, so looked like a real gun (and was heavy like a real gun, too).  My buddies and I spent gobs of time out in the woods plinking at whatever could serve as a target, moving or otherwise.

My passion for guns did not go unnoticed by Dad, who bought me a used Winchester .22 rifle for $35 when I was eleven years old, then joined me in a rifle club so that I could learn safety and responsible gun ownership.  The meetings were in the Orange Community Center (at 20th & Burton Streets), so every Monday night Dad and I would go there to first hear a safety talk, then practice shooting in the indoor range.  A new member would always start in the prone position, then move up to the sitting, kneeling and standing positions as proficiency in each was reached.  I've always had a steady hand, so scored well and moved up at a fairly rapid pace.  After qualifying in standing, my dad pulled one of the biggest surprises of my young life.

Every year there was a tournament, when the members would compete amongst themselves in age classes.  I would obviously compete with the younger kids, those under twelve years of age.  The tournament went on for about a month during the shooting portion of those Monday night meetings.  I didn't think a whole lot about it, because the only difference was that my score would be recorded and ranked against everyone else in my age bracket.  No big deal...I practiced at home (dry firing) and just did my best as always.

Then the tournament ended and in a special meeting the winners were announced, beginning with third place in each of the two age groups.  I sat listening, and wasn't surprised - and frankly didn't even care much - when I didn't hear my name for either third, second or first place among those under twelve years old.  So we sat through and I listened with mild interest as they began announcing the winners for the oldest age group, those twelve up to sixteen years of age.  The third-place winner was announced, then the second.  After that I heard something that shook me out of my lethargy...MY NAME!!  Bewildered, I rose, went to the front and accepted the first-place trophy.  Still clueless and naive about what had just taken place, immediately after the meeting while we were still there milling around, I asked him about the discrepancy and he told me to shut up.  Yes, Dad LIED ABOUT MY AGE in the paperwork when he signed me up for the tournament so that I could compete with the oldest group.

I don't have too many photographs from my youth, but one I did keep was a picture Dad took of me holding the trophy when we got home that night:

Oddly, I lost interest after that.  After all, where was I going from there?  "Been there, done that" sort of thing, I suppose.  It took a few weeks before I got the nerve to tell Dad that I didn't feel like going to the meetings any more, so we quit.  But the memory will always remain of the time Dad spent with me on those Mondays, and what he did to give me a chance to succeed at the top of the heap.