How Game Are You?

By DocMoll

As I set and drink my coffee on this warm morning in late August, I wonder what will happen to the sport I love so much. With Louisiana becoming a illegal, and HSUS pushing to make felons out of each and everyone of us, I fear that most will just destroy, and dispose of the bloodlines that our forefathers worked so hard on to make them what they are today. (I have already seen this happening.) I suppose one has to understand that they are scared of the new laws, but I have heard several of them say, “I’m as game as my fowl” but yet they cowered, sulled, and ran when faced with a long drag fight.

I remember as a very young child moving from the country home in the foot hills of West Virginia to the suburbs of Woodhaven, Michigan. I had to leave all I knew behind, as dad was trying to provide a better life for us. Better was the money and the things he could give to his children, but none of it could fill the void in my heart and mind. I remember asking him, “Where are we going to put the roosters? There is no room for the them here.” He just looked at me with a long face and said, “Son, I’m sorry but we have to forget them for a while.” Well, I couldn’t forget the beauty of the fowl, or the sound of them crowing that I had grown to love. Dad noticed this was weighing heavy on my mind over the next few months, and ordered some gamefowl magazines for me. I guess he thought it might help control my hunger to have them back, but it just fueled the fire in me. I had made up my mind on what I wanted, and I was going to get them…

In the fall of 1973 I heard roosters crowing down the block from where we lived, and off I went in search of them. The crowing was coming from carrying cases in the back of a pick up truck five house down from us. I stayed close, and watched for someone to come out to them. As soon as I saw someone appear from the house, I moved in to ask if they was what I thought they was. The Filipino gentlemen looked at me and asked how I knew what they were, so I told him. This is where I met my life long friend Roger. He owned a small piece of property about 2 miles from where we was, and kept his fowl there, but lived in the same subdivision as I did. Me, my father, and him grew to become very good friends, and I would rush to help him when ever I could, so I could get to where the fowl was.

In 1977, dad bought a small farm in New Boston, Michigan and moved us there. When I got to the new home, there was a trio of Doctor Auther Moll Hatch there waiting for me. Roger had given them to dad for me, and dad had built a pen, and moved the fowl in before he came to get us as a surprise!

Now it is 2008, and that same blood is still on my yard being bred every year. I will keep, and breed this blood till the day I pass from this earth. I guess one might say it is a true passion in my life. I don’t know what it is, but what I do know is I am not giving them up for no one. I have even said to my wife, “They was here before you, and they will be here when your gone!”

You can read more from DocMoll at the Ultimate Fowl Forum!



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