As long as nobody croaks, I could win it all this year

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RUTH.BONNEVILLE / winnipeg free press archives Doug Speirs and St. Boniface Conservative MP Shelly Glover went frog to frog at last year�s event in St-Pierre-Jolys.

There comes a time in every man's life, a time when he must do something manly, a time when he must step up to the plate, then crouch down on all fours and try to conquer his greatest fear without wetting his pants.

For me, that terrifying time will come this Sunday at 2 p.m. in St-Pierre-Jolys, a tiny village of 1,000 fun-loving people located about 50 kilometres south of Winnipeg.

Fortunately, I will not have to face this moment alone. I will be joined by a trusted teammate, a comrade in arms, a faithful companion, a loyal sidekick, a green avenger.

As you have no doubt already guessed, I will be joined by a frog.

For the second consecutive year, myself and a randomly selected frog will be paired up -- much like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson or Batman and Robin -- at the Canadian Frog Jumping Championships.

We will go leap for leap against other area frogs assigned to about two dozen "outstanding local celebrities," including Lt.-Gov. Philip Lee, in the National Frog Jumping VIP event, part of the village's 41st annual Frog Follies Festival.

If you have never witnessed competitive frog jumping before, I urge you to put down your beer, hop off the couch and make the 30-minute drive to this scenic amphibian-intensive hamlet.

The way it works is each competitor is called up on stage and handed a frog in a bucket. Then you have to scoop the frog out with your bare hands, plop it down on a green carpet and encourage it to jump via the techniques of (a) slapping your hands on the floor; (b) crouching down and blowing on the frog's hindquarters; and (c) shouting encouraging remarks to the frog, such as: "That's a nice pair of legs you've got there!" Or: "Mmmmm, I'll bet somebody tastes just like chicken!"

The winner is the VIP whose tiny green teammate jumps the longest combined distance in three consecutive hops. I don't wish to brag, but this year my frog and I will not just be jumping for victory. We will be jumping for redemption.

When I competed for the first time last summer, I was hoping to cover myself in glory.

Instead, I was covered in shame. Also a thick coating of slime, which is one of the hazards of coming in close contact with frogs.

In other words, I disgraced myself. I readily admit I was a big part of the problem. I am a major weenie when it comes to bees, spiders and slimy amphibians. I am 53 years old and I did not make it this far by touching frogs.

The biggest problem, however, was my frog, whom I decided to name "Bob" in honour of my boss Bob. Unlike all the other frogs, who were the size of canned hams and had positive, "can-do" attitudes, Bob was a small, skittish frog in whom the fire of competition did not burn brightly.

As I attempted to corral Bob in the starter's circle last year, suddenly and without warning, he (I'm assuming Bob was a he) would make a mad hop for freedom, causing the crowd to cheer wildly and me to shriek like Mike Tyson at a spelling bee until some random kid armed with a butterfly net retrieved my reluctant partner.

Escaped frogs will be an even bigger problem on Sunday, as I learned Friday morning when I spoke with Rachelle Tessier, St-Pierre-Joly's CAO and organizer of the VIP frog jump.

"This year, you have to catch your own frog if he gets away," Rachelle warned me. "There were way too many kids with nets on the stage last year so it was hard for people to see."

I registered my strong objection to this radical rule change, but she was unmoved. "You have to hold onto your frog this year, Doug," she explained, politely. "Talk to it. Whisper in its ear. Blow on it and it will go far."

The truth is, I've been training hard for my second shot at frog-jumping fame. I have been doing this by trying to catch a handful of rogue frogs that recently invaded our backyard. Whenever I cut the lawn -- SPROING! -- a tiny frog will suddenly leap away from the tall grass in front of the mower.

This always startles me, but I assume it is far more terrifying from the frog's point of view. Imagine, there you are, a contented frog, basking in the sun, when out of nowhere a machine with rotating blades comes along and tries to croak you.

The point is, I am expecting a much better performance from myself AND my frog this time around. Losing is not an option. I am going to this event with a winning attitude. I am going to this event to cut down the competition.

I am going to this event with my lawn mower.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition July 30, 2010 A2