You can always tell if someone in the neighborhood is playing horseshoes. All that metal on metal makes it a noisy sport. I don’t know if it is a sport really, more like a pastime. By the end of a good summer I have a hard time telling my shoes from my opponent’s. They get pretty beat up. And then over the winter the bare metal rusts so I have to take steel wool to them each spring before giving them a new coat of Rustoleum.
This afternoon my neighbor, Rick, asked if the shoes were dry yet. I checked and they were. We always play best out of three, three games to 21,and I managed to squeak out a victory in the third game. This will be a good summer.