​The War horses toss their heads nervously and stamp the ground at either end of the jousting field. The crowd quiets in anticipation. Even the manic squires become motionless as a sense of incipient collision fills the arena.  The knights sit stock still on the backs of their horses. Each holds a hefty 12-foot lance leveled at an opponent  across the field. Inside their burdensome armor it is dark and hot. It is hard to breathe and claustrophobic. Their views are restricted by a slit in their helmets a quarter-inch thick and roughly three inches from side to side. Because of the bulky armor-scoop protecting their necks, they can only sense the giant horse between their legs. They can't lean far enough forward to see the top of its head or pick up the reins should they drop them. There is only a distant opponent at the far end of a long run.

 

With a signal from the marshal and a roar from the crowd, the horses launch at each other, breaking from a standstill into a full stride within seconds.  As they converge with a thunder of hooves and a blur of color, he grips his lance tightly and braces for the impact. It comes with a loud splintering of wood and a massive shock to his chest. The world flips upside down and for a moment all he sees is blue sky through the thin slit in his helm before hitting the earth with a clatter and a thud. As the sound of hooves and the roar from the crowd recede, he lies still, unable to get up. His chest throbs and the sweat stings as it pours into his eyes.

 

Welcome to the world of jousting. Part history lesson, part rodeo, part demolition derby. ALL REAL