Daisycutting

Imagine a long, heavy bladed fighting knife, actually something like a short sword: its blade is curved forward from the handle to give more power to the stroke and bring the cutting edge at a more aggressive angle to the wincing flesh it is designed to catch, shear, and sever. This is a kukhri.

Now imagine this kukhri thrown side arm at knee height across a rugby field, spinning flat and strking down players like rows of corn. This is a flying kukhri.

Now imagine a gaggle of clueless five year olds in too big shorts, arranged into two vague lines, facing each other. Grim faced, one steps and boots a full size rugbyball along the ground at the opposing "team". Instantly, every child on the pitch, both teams, attempts to put their hands on the ball, while simultaneously holding up their shorts and wiping their grimy noses. Some grizzle. Some gape. Some trip. Some accuse others of various offences against the person. The coach blows a whistle. Nothing changes. Parent helpers sort out the various tangled arms and legs and harry the teams into facing lines. They go again.

These are the Flying Kukhris.

This is Flying Kukhris RFC, (under 7s). This is how I spent my Sunday morning. Very satisfying.