Every January, it is essential and beneficial, following possible excesses during the recent end-of-year celebrations, to find the lines, those of the fields but also those of bodies that gastronomic events could have damaged.
But joyfully claiming to be “Fous du Volant en Armagnac”, the name of the Condom club, there is nothing surprising in the fact that the joyful cohort has slipped again. While the evening started in all sportsmanship, with games where everyone deployed all available energy to put on a good show and win, came the delicate moment when stomachs began to cry out for hunger. It didn’t take long for the evening to move from snowshoes to raclette. Certainly, there was a time of confusion, accompanied by a few rantings from the less hungry. But it didn’t last long. The greediest, quickly using an aphorism for the occasion, made everyone agree: “Oh, you’re not going to make a cheese out of us!” Which was logically melted into the cups that all badistas shape with a dexterity equal to that of their rackets.
Conviviality did the rest and we celebrated with dignity the start of a year 2026 that the club wishes everyone to live up to their hopes.
