Pillow fighting is serious – maybe Olympics-level serious, one day
If you’ve ever been whomped by a pillow you’ll know that underneath the giggles it’s always been serious.
People take part in the Annual Pillow Fight at Washington Square on April 7, 2018 in New York City. (Photo by EDUARDO MUNOZ ALVAREZ / GETTY IMAGES NORTH AMERICA / Getty Images via AFP)
I write this from my bed because finally, just as the Olympics kick off, there comes a new sport I might actually be good at: pillow fighting.
It’s not at the Olympics – yet – but there is hope. After all, this Winter Olympics has seven new sports, including a “monobob” sled event.
The Summer Games introduced us to Olympian-level skateboarding, karate, three-member basketball and surfing, all of which I tried as a child – be it on a borrowed board, or with a hoop made from a wire coat hanger – and failed at miserably.
But now, at last, comes something I’m sure I could excel at: pillow fighting, the sport.
Yes, pillow fighting just got serious – although if you’ve ever been whomped by a pillow you’ll know that underneath the giggles it’s always been serious.
It started in Florida and it’s called Pillow Fight Championships (PFC), a bloodless combat sport. The prize pot already sits at $5 000 or R77 000, the pillows are a standardised 900 gram weight and pyjama parties will never be the same again.
I, for one, am excited. Or was. Then I watched replays of the recent inaugural Miami Pound Down: things got heated when a competitor lost his pillow, fists flailed, linesmen broke it up and no one was laughing.
Fair enough, pillow fights sometimes get bitchy, but the organisers have missed the point.
PFC competitors wear sports gear; the pillows are nylon-covered foam so they can’t burst; it all happens in a roped ring; there are four 90-second rounds, because pillow fights are exhausting, even for the MMA fighters competing.
But everyone knows real pillow fights happen in pyjamas, on beds. A good pillow fight continues until it’s over, unceasing, relentless, until someone either tumbles to the floor, collapses giggling, begs for mercy or, in extreme cases, bursts their pillow or smashes the light fittings.
Not so this humourless sport.
There’s no bouncy mattress for added instability, no risk of plunging over the side of the bed, no fear of your bottom popping out of your PJs during a spirited high whomp, no feather explosions or furious mothers… no fun at all.
But there is so much possibility for a rival league, for PPF, for Proper Pillow Fighting. I’ll be in bed, practising.
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