Carnwath is a small village in rural South Lanarkshire, Scotland, about 10 minutes’ drive from where I live. The lands of Carnwath were granted to Lord John Somerville in 1508 by King James IV of Scotland, and this part of the country is comprised of rolling green uplands where agriculture is the dominant industry, a million miles away from the hustle of Glasgow and Edinburgh where my street photography usually takes place, but in actuality only 30 minutes’ drive to both.

Each year, in common with many rural communities an annual show takes place which consists of livestock competitions, craft fayres, a funfair, dog and pet shows, and not forgetting home baking and a beer tent. The show also hosts what is believed to be the oldest foot race in Britain (some say the world!) – The Red Hose Race. A modest cash prize attracts runners from afar, but only those from the immediate surrounding parishes are eligible to compete for the coveted Red Hose. The hose on this occasion are of the lower leg covering variety, in other words the winner takes home a pair of long red socks.

In years gone by events such as this have been the happy hunting grounds of many British documentary photographers. I have been in attendance many times in the past, always finding something of interest to point the camera at. Back then I was more interested in competition photography, so I was looking for that single shot, the killer that would see another salon acceptance and possibly a prize. But times change as have I, and this year, being the first full edition post pandemic, I decided to approach one particular event within the show from a documentary perspective – the Sheep Champion of Champions.

The sheep pens and competition rings sit at the bottom end of the upward sloping show field. Various breeds such as Texel, Border Leicester, Bluefaced Leicester and Blackface are judged in classes, these including individual males and females (known as Tups and Yows in the local Scots dialect), pairs and family groups. After being herded into the judging pen the contestants are allowed to wander around while the Judge, dressed in timeless countryside tweeds, watches their movement with a keen eye. Onlookers, mostly those in the business going by the weather-beaten complexions, take notes and pass comments amongst themselves.

After the contestants have been herded around the judging pen, the next part of the process involves them being arranged in a straight line for closer inspection, and this is where the fun begins. Unlike the competitors who are assembling further up the field for the dog show, obedience does not come naturally to these animals. In fact, it does not come at all. Having once rescued a stranded sheep from a steep mountainside, I know from first-hand experience just how powerful and stubborn they are. Each sheep has a handler whose purpose it is to ensure that they hold the line. This can become a wrestling match, a sheep rodeo, or a strange bout of WWF – man against mutton. After much struggling an uneasy compromise is reached, and the hands-on judging can begin. This involves a lot of poking, prodding and more grappling, all while the animals become ever more restless and the truce increases in fragility. Occasionally an inspiring bid for freedom is successful and the line has to be regained. Eventually a winner is selected, indicated by a gesture from the judge using his crook and a nod in the winning entrant’s direction. Ribbons change hands, more notes are taken, and the handlers get a well-earned short rest before the whole process to select another Champion starts again.