[Lifestyle] Rhik Samadder tries… urban axe throwing: ‘Bullseye! I feel powerful’

[THē-GHōST]

 

When I explore my buried Viking abilities, I realise there is a wild man in all of us. If only I had been competing without a dishwasher-related finger injury ihe Whistle Punks urban axe throwing venue is not easily missed. You can hear terrifying thunks of wood from outside, while inside hatchets whoosh past at head height, followed by cheers. The atmosphere screams “fraternity hazing” and I’m scared to walk in. The friends I’ve brought with me experience the atmosphere differently, a few describing themselves as “pumped” and “beyond excited”, which makes me wonder if they have under-active amygdalas. Basically it’s darts, with axes. Parallel lanes are enclosed in chain-link walls, with cartoon target boards at one end. A bullseye is worth five points; the concentric circles around it, fewer. Our instructor, Alice, teaches us single and double-handed throws. It’s a whole body movement, like headbutting, she says. I have never headbutted anyone; I am not a goat. I am surprised, though, by how little strength is required to generate a hefty WHUMP. When I go on to land a bullseye in training before anyone else does, an unexpected feeling of power blooms. I must triumph. Game on. We begin a tournament, Alice chalking up points on a board. Aiming to become the axe-throwing GOAT, I whip my hatchet down the lane. It over-rotates, smacking the target bluntly and uselessly. My competitor, Victoria, a former ballerina, sinks hers into the soft wood of the bullseye. This isn’t right. I trash-talk her for a few throws – bringing up past failures, financial insecurities etc. It does the trick and her last axe fails with a clatter. My turn. I raise my arm and let fly. Bullseye. The cleanest bullseye the world has ever seen. Then the axe trembles and falls out of the target on to the floor. “No points!” says Alice. Unharmed, I am nonetheless in a world of pain. 
 

 

Final round is a “death match”. Alice explains that this means, “One person lives, the other person dies!” (It means the two highest scorers face off.) Can the underdog pull off the impossible? “Believe in yourself!” roars Alice. “This is for everyone who bullied me at school,” announces Heather, throwing double handed. For the first time, her blade flies straight; directly into the bullseye. But she is in my lane. The axe wobbles and falls out. No points. “I guess you didn’t believe in yourself enough,” notes James, landing the most savage blow today. Gutting. Still, deep vindication for me. The winner is justice, or at least shared unfairness. Technically I finished last, but I also have a finger injury from unloading the dishwasher, which I never mentioned. There are a few undignified jokes about my induction into the Hall of Shame, but even I leave with a ruddy glow and an appreciation of my buried Viking abilities. There’s a wild man in all of us. The next day, James mentions that he’s been experiencing increased creativity. “I guess I needed to throw an axe into some wood.” Talking therapies are great, but taciturn flannel therapy? That hits the spot.

Link: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2021/oct/25/rhik-samadder-tries-urban-axe-throwing-bullseye-i-feel-powerful