Do you know Monsieur Brulat?

No?

Don't surprise me.

I didn't know him either, not even his name, until last week in a village in Provence I saw a small poster that read: “Entente Bouliste Pernoise Organize Le Souvenir Germain Brulat Pétanque”.

Including a photo of Monsieur Brulat, the late local boulist.

A boules or pétanque tournament (which is the same) was therefore announced, endowed with 700 euros.

Something like that makes you curious, at least me.

As luck would have it, the next day I saw a couple of boules players in the neighboring village who looked quite professional.

As it turned out, it was not a question of local ball sizes, but of Germans who traveled on vacation and who, in addition to daily training, liked to go to the villages in the area to take part in tournaments.

We started talking and I got a little introduction to their sport.

In France, they said, there are more than 27,000 official boules competitions with more than two and a half million players every year.

You don't need a lot

Is that a sport at all, you might ask. Yes of course. Someone who was already Olympic in 1900 and demands a lot from those who want to perfect him. Feeling, precision, technique, tactics. I learned: You play alone or in teams of two or three, and there are real specialists: the puncher (the language of the game is French), for example, who throws the first ball as close as possible to the target ball, or the shooter who tries to capture it shoot away.

If he hits it at an angle of 45 degrees with back effet, then his ball is exactly where the opponent was previously, this is called a carreau sur place - only something for the masters of the game. Boule, I soon learned, is demanding and - for all the brilliance of its best players - wonderfully unpretentious. You don't need much: three balls, a tape measure for tight decisions, a cloth to clean the balls, maybe a glass of pastis every now and then.

You can play in sports shoes, in hiking boots, in flip-flops.

Fairways?

It's everywhere.

If necessary, a sandy parking lot will do, even and hard.

Woman and man can play together, young with old, big with small, handicapped with not handicapped, everyone with everyone.

Boule is communicative, integrative, pleasant.

After a day with the boulists, I think now I really need to give myself the ball.

There should still be some in the basement at home.

Incidentally, Monsieur Brulat left his family at the age of 84 and took three bullets with him to the grave, which makes sense, because if God actually has a soft spot for France, as is often said, he will need her in heaven.