designated daddies

AW SHIT! It’s the vernal equinox, you know what that means? Wait, you actually don’t? Were you raised by wolves? Today is the day one traditionally picks a fight with a vicar! Come on now, it’s the great spring time tradition. One would go up to the village Vicar and just let toss them a haymaker, which seems like it would be no problem, but these weren’t the kind of vicars we’re used to, back then the church was packed with stout churls who would gladly get into fist fights. Of course they also knew about the tradition, having for the most part, grown up with it themselves. It hearkened back to that story of Jacob wrestling an angel, Genesis 32:22-32. If you managed to defeat the local vicar he was obliged to give you and your estate a blessing, and if you lost you had to go to the local tavern and buy them drinks until they would pass out. After a while it grew to such popularity that people had to settle fighting the parish priest and occasional overgrown altar boy. Eventually church staff became unrecognizable from the hardened, hearty breed of yore, so the church quietly introduced “designated fathers,” and instead of fist fighting them one would have to pin them or get pinned by them to the ground. The “designated daddies,” as they came to be called, would wear traditional skin tight leather shorts and, depending on the region, would be greased or oiled up by handlers, and everyone would gather in the village square to watch the spectacle. There was even a version of it in the Abruzo region of Italy, but it was the only nuns of the Lady of Holy Significance Convent who would partake in the feat of strength.  They would traditionally wrestle in the first vat of spring time pasta, over the years it became the spaghetti wrestling we all now enjoy.

 

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