bodyType

customContents

entityId

entityUuid

articlePageQuery

filter

article

articleBaseAdvertisingInfoArticle

articleListArticle

articleSeoArticle

hooksArticleAcknowledgementGateOverlayArticle

hooksTrackPageViewArticle

hooksContentInterestArticle

articleLinkingDataContent

hooksAmpRedirectArticle

articleSchemaContent

liveArticle

advertZone

sentiment

contentLock

topics

types

sections

paywallTypes

createdDate

publishedDate

urlAlias

moreOnThisArticles

sponsorType

commentCount

authorLocations

authors

corrections

displaySlideShow

multimediaEmbed

printHeadline

seriesContainer

articleSpeeches

socialHeadline

headline

images

flag

firstTopic

glossary

flattenTypeIds

image

relatedLinks

relatedNewsletters

__typename

sponsor

pdfFiles

seriesReverseOrder

series

disableOffPlatformContent

published

updatedDate

summary

subHeadline

body

keywords

readingTime

customTimezone

liveContents

The Spanish have bullfighting, the Japanese have sumo. In Lancashire, they wrestle in gravy.
On Monday 22 fearless contestants - 16 men and six women - lined up at the Rose’n’Bowl carvery in Stacksteads, near Bacup, to battle it out to become world gravy wrestling champion.
Despite a Lancastrian love of gravy stretching back centuries, the World Gravy Wrestling Championships are in only their eighth year, having begun as a publicity wheeze for the short-lived Pennine food festival. The festival is long gone but the wrestling is more popular than ever, attracting competitors from as far away as Austria and Australia. Prizes are awarded for the best costume, and wrestling talent is less important than a willingness to get stuck in.
Watch: The 2014 gravy-wrestling championships

The organisers always struggle to fill the female category. “They’re too worried about their hair and nails,” said Karen Foster, 43, who had no such qualms, dripping from head to toe in brown sauce, dressed as her alter ego Rocket Raccoon.
Her 18-year-old son Matthew, a dental apprentice, made his gravy wrestling debut this year as Captain Bisto, his 57kg physique no disadvantage in a competition that prizes amusement over sporting prowess.


“We aren’t looking for wrestling ability,” said judge Joe Healey, 67. “We are looking for entertainment more than anything else.”
The bouts are fought in a specially constructed pool regularly topped up with 1,500 litres of gloopy brown liquid made in a nearby black pudding factory. After each round the contestants are hosed down by the Lancashire fire brigade.
Much of the fun comes from the Peter Kay-like commentary. “Look at him flipping about like a spider flushed down the toilet!” and “There’s Claire, riding Jess like Seabiscuit” were two particular highlights.
The baddie of the day was Rob Ollerenshaw-Ward, a financial analyst from Saddleworth, who came dressed as The Taxman in a suit and bowler hat, wielding his briefcase as a weapon.
The ladies’ title was taken by 20-year-old stablehand Nicole “Mad Cow” Taylor-Lyons, who beat a woman dressed as a pregnant nun. “Never again,” said the victor, who revealed she had prepared for the competition by “getting pissed all weekend”.
The male gong was won for the third time by Joel Hicks, 36, who spends most of his life entering competitions in order to raise money for his children’s charity, Always With a Smile.

“This year I’m really targeting the world egg-throwing championships,” he said, shortly before putting his first opponent into a mucky headlock.
He began the contest dressed as Gandalf but was soon stripped to his skivvies as he bomb-dropped his way to the final.
Gravy wrestling is not without its risks. But only once have contestants ended up in hospital, according to organiser Andy Holt, managing director of the Real Lancashire Black Pudding Company, who makes the gravy in his factory.
“Two of them ended up in casualty one year, one dressed as a nun, the other as a goblin. They turned up at reception covered in gravy. The receptionist took one look at them and mistook them for perverts, told them: ‘We don’t want your sort here.’ Luckily the Rose’n’Bowl landlord’s sister is a nurse and she was able to persuade the hospital they weren’t getting embroiled in some sort of perversion.”
Gravy wrestling does have one dirty secret, however: they don’t wrestle in real gravy any more. “We found the meat smell attracted wasps,” said Holt. “It was a bit of a problem. Now I make it with cornflower and caramel."


Sauce of amusement: All hail the gravy wrestlers of Lancashire

Competitors slug it out in the gravy pool at the Rose’n’Bowl carvery in Stacksteads, Lancashire, on Monday. Photo: AFP

Women wrestlers get in on the act. Photo: AFP

Nicole “Mad Cow” Taylor-Lyons is proclaimed winner of the women's competition. Photo: AFP

The post-tournament hose-down. Photo: AFP

News

World