Two stand side by side, toes on the line,
Each one primed, feeling fine,
Focused, ready, the stakes are clear—
It’s all about length, and nothing to fear.
The crowd leans in, both grins are set,
They’ve stretched, they’re loose, no signs of sweat.
In this sport, no medals, no fame,
Just bragging rights and a laugh to claim.
With a nod, they tilt and start,
Each one giving their best in heart,
The golden arc, the careful aim—
Distance, precision, the name of the game.
A roar erupts as streams take flight,
Cutting the air, a daring sight.
But soon enough, the streams subside,
Leaving the ground where egos collide.
One looks left, the other right,
Measuring marks in the midday light.
A slap on the back, a jesting cheer,
A contest done, till next round’s here.