Story with a moral (15-11-2021)
People can blame me a lot, but I'm not a sourpuss who makes problems about everything. When it rains, I'm glad it doesn't storm. When it storms I think 'it will pass'.
When the sparrows fall from the roof from the heat, I don't get sad or pick them up to throw them back. 'A sparrow that falls from the roof must know that for itself', I think. If I had wings I would never fall off a roof. For me, the good news is when there is no news. But it's also not true that I never get offended by anything.
For example, I thoroughly dislike the telephone, stupid questions annoy me and what makes me logically very cross-eyed are stupid questions on the telephone. I hate stupid pigeons and even more hate stupid pigeons in my loft.
And the '509' was such a stupid pigeon at the time. Very nice, yes, but what counts in pigeon sport are good results. But unfortunately. In that regard, he was the biggest junk I've ever had. "I want it," said one caller. None of it, I replied. In pigeon magazine De Duif I will explain why such birds are useless.
"In which Duif?" Oh dear. "In which Duif?" Why the heck had I picked up that phone. "I had been thinking in the paper that deals with table manners for cockchafers," I said, slightly ironically but almost vomiting, wondering how much longer I could handle this conversation. Because the only source of energy I have over the phone for stupid questions about stupid pigeons is the courage in my shoes.
FOOL Donna was the caller's name. And I avoid people called Donna as much as possible. To me the name, why I don't know, is synonymous with stupid.
Maybe because of Madonna, you know that blonde with no body part we haven't seen on screen and who sometimes chose to put out a record. Her different way of getting attention.You understand that I have never met her, nor are there any plans, unless she asks. The bottom line is that people named Donna get on my nerves and I don't trust them at all. "It's like this," Donna said, and in my mind I saw him take off his glasses as if what he was going to say next was really important.
'The thing is,' he repeated: 'the good come from the good. And you can't fail with a pigeon from such parents.' I couldn't help but heave a deep sigh.
Now I'm someone who keeps his promise, so I'm going to write about that '509'. How could such a piece of ignorance still be in my loft?
They don't get much credit from me, do they? Correct. But with this pigeon it was different. He was still alive because of his beauty, his heritage and above all… my wife.I had bought the parents for a fair amount of money from a famous Antwerp fancier. My wife knew that. For two winters she begged me to give him another chance. I had listened to her for two winters, but now my patience had run out. He could leave. Not to Donna, my poulterer's name is different.
Incidentally, it was not smart of me to buy pigeons from that man. I should have stayed away for several reasons.
- Way too many pigeons.
- Way too many drugs.
-And every year poorer results. Normally such a thing should be reflected on the loft list; If you start playing less, you have to keep fewer pigeons, but with him it was the other way around.Could those overcrowded lofts possibly have to do with Chinese? To make matters worse, I had grown from that rubbish too.
"If it doesn't fly, it might be a good breeder," the Antwerp guy had said. How stupid can you be.Strange that such a perfect pigeon from such good parents from such a good loft is worth nothing? Nothing is strange in pigeon sport.
ALSO THAT STILL
Ace Four and Supertje were nest mates. The father (an average flyer) was lost. Too bad but I had a brother who had flown just fine.
So what does a person do in such a situation? Putting him against the hen that had given him that good one with his brother, of course. I raised six youngsters, it was six times nothing. There was that stray bird that just wouldn't leave.
The owner thought it a shame to eliminate the pigeon and sent the card.It turned out to be a real asset. I returned to the breeder to thank him and he told me that the pigeon came from two yearlings. Then I bought ten young from the breeders. Because if a youngster from yearlings flew so well, how good must the youngsters of his breeders be. Not one of the ten was worth anything.
Such things do not surprise me anymore. That is pigeon sport. That's how I was once in America. During a seminar I ventured on my clogs through the china shop of American racial delusion.
'Look' I said, 'I believe in good pigeons, in luck, but not in strain' and… I added, 'because you are never sure someone who gives 10,000 Euros for a four week old beeper is nuts.They nodded in agreement, but not everyone.
There was someone in the room who asked that amount for a baby from his 'Dream Pair'. He wasn't happy with me: What I said cost him money, I should have stayed in Europe. 'Do you really think that two super pigeons can give worthless rubbish?' he asked. "Do you really think a zebra has stripes?" was my reply.
Back in my room I heard someone say to the answering machine 'You, son of a gun'. After some cigarettes, some whiskeys, some MTV clips and with a head full of despair I crawled into bed. But I didn't sleep well.
Pills, powders or syringes are not the secret of the champions in our sport, selection comes close. It is a delusion to assume that it is a matter of course that good parents also give good youngsters. Good parents offer more opportunities! No more and no less and that is quite a different thing. We should not make so many excuses for certain pigeons to keep them. And here again we come to my mantra: Eliminate your bad pigeons, sell the good ones and keep the supers. And the result sheets will tell you how good or bad a pigeon is. Not the pedigree !!