‘Fiesta of Festivities’ was the topic for the Benalla Festival's Writing Competition in 2019. Betty's entry 'The Challenge' was a Highly Commended winner in the Open Section.
“The Challenge”
It takes country folk to organise a family day of fun
A day of skill and challenges, something for everyone.
Molyullah Easter Sports is a fine example of tradition
Some say it even beats going Easter Monday fishin’.
We always took the kids there in the years gone past
Now my memory takes me back to when I went there last.
I had a mate who always won the annual Ladies’ Race
She could run like a hare, no girl could match her pace.
Well, we got to talking, she and I, and I told her I could run
How I was champ on hard turf, and of the trophies I had won.
Then the challenge was struck, to meet at the next sports
I fronted up appropriately, clad in shirt, sneakers and shorts.
Bought a ticket at the gate and hoped it was the lucky one
Took a quick look at the plant stall, ate hot chips on the run.
Just missed the gumboot throwing but I recognized the victor,
If it was a betting event, then for sure I would’ve picked her.
Just then there was a call out for entries in the Ladies’ Race
To report to the track and get ready to take their place.
I walked up to the starting point, eyeing off the opposition.
Wished the best to my mate and took up my position.
A sideways glance at all the girls that stood behind the line
Told me without a doubt that this Ladies’ Race was mine.
The starter raised his gun, “get set”, and a resounding crack.
I took a mighty leap forward… then went down like a sack!
As I sat up, dazed and mad, my hands upon my face,
The remaining horde went past me, picking up the pace.
Not physically hurt, but deflated, with my wounded pride
I walked from the track trying my best to look dignified.
My mate approached, accompanied by the biggest grin,
And looking naturally chuffed with her expected win!
My excuse was that my big head was over the finish line,
my legs had tried to catch up, but they got left behind.
I put the race behind me to have a crack at the spinning wheel,
Winning one of the prizes there sounded like a better deal.
But after numerous spins and parting with my bucks
My pocket was nearly empty – I was devoid of luck.
I watched the three-legged race as one pair hit the ground
But I clearly couldn’t stay upright, even with my legs unbound!
Watched the egg throwing competition and found it entertaining.
The young ones showed some skill, especially those remaining.
I was feeling hot and dusty, it was time for tea and cake
Found a seat to sit on and caught up with my grinning mate.
We laughed about the Ladies’ Race that I had not completed
Decided that next year at Molyullah I wouldn’t be defeated.
Lost my money on the spinning wheel, the raffle passed me by,
The lucky gate ticket wasn’t mine, missed a plant I wanted to buy.
But don’t you dare let any of this negativity fool ya
For next year I hope to see you out at Molyullah.
Betty Milligan
“The Challenge”
It takes country folk to organise a family day of fun
A day of skill and challenges, something for everyone.
Molyullah Easter Sports is a fine example of tradition
Some say it even beats going Easter Monday fishin’.
We always took the kids there in the years gone past
Now my memory takes me back to when I went there last.
I had a mate who always won the annual Ladies’ Race
She could run like a hare, no girl could match her pace.
Well, we got to talking, she and I, and I told her I could run
How I was champ on hard turf, and of the trophies I had won.
Then the challenge was struck, to meet at the next sports
I fronted up appropriately, clad in shirt, sneakers and shorts.
Bought a ticket at the gate and hoped it was the lucky one
Took a quick look at the plant stall, ate hot chips on the run.
Just missed the gumboot throwing but I recognized the victor,
If it was a betting event, then for sure I would’ve picked her.
Just then there was a call out for entries in the Ladies’ Race
To report to the track and get ready to take their place.
I walked up to the starting point, eyeing off the opposition.
Wished the best to my mate and took up my position.
A sideways glance at all the girls that stood behind the line
Told me without a doubt that this Ladies’ Race was mine.
The starter raised his gun, “get set”, and a resounding crack.
I took a mighty leap forward… then went down like a sack!
As I sat up, dazed and mad, my hands upon my face,
The remaining horde went past me, picking up the pace.
Not physically hurt, but deflated, with my wounded pride
I walked from the track trying my best to look dignified.
My mate approached, accompanied by the biggest grin,
And looking naturally chuffed with her expected win!
My excuse was that my big head was over the finish line,
my legs had tried to catch up, but they got left behind.
I put the race behind me to have a crack at the spinning wheel,
Winning one of the prizes there sounded like a better deal.
But after numerous spins and parting with my bucks
My pocket was nearly empty – I was devoid of luck.
I watched the three-legged race as one pair hit the ground
But I clearly couldn’t stay upright, even with my legs unbound!
Watched the egg throwing competition and found it entertaining.
The young ones showed some skill, especially those remaining.
I was feeling hot and dusty, it was time for tea and cake
Found a seat to sit on and caught up with my grinning mate.
We laughed about the Ladies’ Race that I had not completed
Decided that next year at Molyullah I wouldn’t be defeated.
Lost my money on the spinning wheel, the raffle passed me by,
The lucky gate ticket wasn’t mine, missed a plant I wanted to buy.
But don’t you dare let any of this negativity fool ya
For next year I hope to see you out at Molyullah.
Betty Milligan
