Really????Yup; it was especially sad that the birds in the worst shape were being shown under the name of my old community club, now fallen from the days that we routinely sent as many as three state winners to Chicago in one year (when I went in 1969 there were two of us). It was especially sad because my cousin the chicken-whisperer (the kid with all the rosettes) was pretty much running a full-time chicken washing demonstration, since his Mom is the barn supervisor. It was really obvious that the leader of that club had no understanding of the basics of showing animals, and the kids were the ones getting discouraged by white ribbons and disqualifications.
I think the Sumatra cock had his tail stolen by a fair visitor, though.