If Sports Illustrated or The Sporting News ever lobs this topic out for debate, I seriously believe I have the winner.
How much wider can the spread between image and substance be than when you have a guy saying “This is the extreme end of the sport” about a fishing match known as the ‘Rumble in the Rhododendron Fly Masters Tournament‘?
Go on, try it. Try saying “Rumble in the Rhododendron” in your best Charles Bronson voice.
Can’t do it, can you? Not without cracking a smile or snorting in disgust.
This isn’t to cast aspersions on the contestants or the achievement of the winners. Given language differences on either side of the Atlantic, indeed, I mustn’t rule out the possibility that ‘Rhododendron’ in America means ‘impenetrable valley populated by flesh-eating arachnids’.
If I’m wrong on the latter point, however, and the competition’s organisers ever hire an image consultant, they mustn’t become too precious if he wants to re-visit the name.
‘Run for the Roses’ falls just the right side of the Great Manly Divide.
And ‘Rumble in the Rhododendron’ doesn’t.