CULT OBJECT

andGAME, SET bats

IN RIO, THE DAYS UNFOLD TO THE BEAT OF BOUNCING RUBBER BALLS BEING BATTED TO AND FRO BY KIDS FROM SEVEN TO 77. THE GAME OF FRESCOBOL, NOW AN INSTITUTION, IS SIMPLICITY ITSELF, FROM ITS NOMINAL RULES TO THE STREAMLINED BEAUTY OF ITS WOODEN BEACH BATS.

By Kim Levy Photo Florent Tanet

IT IS A BRISK, RHYTHMIC THUDDING THAT PEPPERS THE AIR OF RIO’S BEACHES, FROM PRAIA DO DIABLO TO ARPOADOR TO RECREIO. It is the sound of a rubber ball, six centimetres in diameter, hitting the sturdy, lightweight wood of oblong “beach bats” (sometimes termed “paddles” or “racquets”). Two players face each other, a few metres apart, and whack the projectile back and forth between them with metronomic consistency. More experienced players, who savour lightning returns, emit deep grunts of effort as they swing, like one hears at major tennis tournaments. Frescobol, one of the many popular activities practiced year-round by the Cariocas on their sands, saw a sensational debut in 1946. The seaside resort owes one of its most popular sports to Lian Pontes de Carvalho, a carpenter who specialised in manufacturing surfboards. It was he who carved the first beach bat, which he kept for his personal use on his trips to the beach. It was also he who made this game a sport with neither a score nor rules, other than attaining the highest number of volleys possible without the ball touching the ground. For both players – who form a team – the key to consistency lies in an energetic, focused stroke. It takes time to get accustomed to the beach bat: the hardness of the material, the uniform thickness, the handle, the curve of the head, all render the game more challenging, amplifying the slightest impulse. “A good beach bat weighs around 350 grams, but a good offensive frescobol player may prefer a lighter armament, and a player with a more defensive style, a slightly heavier one,” says Jorge Brisson, a frescobol history buff. There are beach bats of every ilk: cedar and pine, of course, but also cinnamon wood, cherry and mahogany, varnished or resin-coated. “Nowadays, you can find them in carbon fibre and some really handsome ones in fibreglass,” shares this avid player. For purists, wood, as the original material, remains de rigueur, with only an adhesive grip to avoid calluses on the hands.

A municipal decree prohibits the sport on the waterfront during holiday periods and weekends. When there are few people on the sand, however, the frescobolista pairs come out of the net-protected zones established for them where the sand meets the sidewalk. Relaxed, with only swimwear as uniform, the most expert demonstrate dazzling technique. Neophytes, on the other hand, see it as a good way to dry in the sun after a swim. All take advantage of the time to perfect their tans. “It’s very representative of the Rio lifestyle: an outdoor activity that you play while looking sexy,” enthuses Harry Brantly who, in 2009, founded the London-based company Frescobol Carioca that manufactures beach bats based on the vintage original model, in hopes of propagating the Brazilian lifestyle abroad. “The beach bats are individually handcrafted by skilled ‘marceneiros’ (woodworkers) from antique furniture off cuts and covered with a strong resin coating. Each one is unique,” explains the young entrepreneur. Though the sticker price of these stylish rackets is markedly higher than the basic model, they are as popular with ball-batters around the world as they are with the most competitive Cariocas. And the legacy of Lian Pontes de Carvalho carries on: in February 2015, frescobol was officially declared part of Brazil’s cultural heritage. n