In a spectacle that defied both weather forecasts and human decency, the quiet suburban towns of the Moscow region recently played host to an event that will surely be talked about for generations — or at least until next week’s news cycle. This, dear reader, was no ordinary winter wonderland. No, it was the Third Annual Moscow Snowman Showdown, a competition that pitted man, woman, child, and unfortunately, a few stray dogs, against each other in a frosty battle of snow, creativity, and an alarming disregard for basic anatomical understanding.
Yes, you read that right: this wasn’t just your average family-friendly snowman-building contest. This was something far more… primal. An event where participants weren’t just crafting lovable Frosty replicas. Instead, they were building monuments to the human spirit — if that spirit had gotten lost somewhere between a Moscow metro station and a heavily spiked bottle of vodka.
Snow Sculptures or Sculptural Nightmares?
The rules of the competition were simple: gather as much snow as possible from your neighbor’s front yard, fashion it into a “snowman” (a term used loosely), and hope for the best. And oh, did they hope. The artistic license taken by contestants led to a menagerie of snow creatures that would make a plastic surgeon weep with envy — or confusion.
One of the more notable entries was a towering figure that closely resembled a Russian nesting doll — if the doll had been left out in the sun for too long and had suffered an identity crisis along the way. According to the creator, a local who refused to disclose his name for fear of being permanently banned from all future holiday activities, it was a tribute to his “beloved mother-in-law”. When asked why the snow figure was holding what appeared to be a frozen fish in one hand and a bottle of vinegar in the other, the man simply shrugged and said, “It’s art. You wouldn’t understand”.
Another contender, a team of over-enthusiastic teenagers, spent hours constructing a snowman that, upon closer inspection, resembled nothing short of a toilet with two legs. When questioned, they proudly declared that they were “commenting on the human condition”. The judges, clearly moved by the sight of the snow-toilet, gave it a standing ovation and quietly moved on to the next contestant, who had decided that building a family of snowmen using nothing but frozen chicken nuggets was the height of postmodernism.
A Breathtaking Display of Bathroom Humor (and Actual Bathrooms)
Of course, no snowman contest in the Russian suburbs would be complete without a nod to that most sacred of spaces — the public bathroom. Whether it’s the sheer practicality of a well-placed outhouse or the more abstract idea of a snowman who appears to be perpetually stuck on the toilet, bathroom humor was in full display this year.
One competitor, an enterprising man in his mid-50s, constructed a snowman that looked suspiciously like a politician on a very important phone call while seated on a snow toilet. The fine details — the frozen rolls of toilet paper, the snowphone glued to the snowman’s ear, and the strategically placed snowpipe — were enough to bring a tear to the eye of any art critic. When asked if his creation was a commentary on the state of modern politics, the man winked and said, “Depends on what’s going on in the bathroom”.
The children’s category, which in theory should have been a wholesome display of innocent snowman-building fun, took a strange turn when several of the young competitors started adding miniature snow toilets to their creations. “We just thought it’d be funny”, said 8-year-old Sasha, proudly pointing to his snowman’s makeshift bidet made from a snow shovel and a broken garden hose. Judges applauded the ingenuity, though quietly questioned the future of the human race.
A Frozen Circus of (Un)Natural Talent
As the hours dragged on and the temperature plummeted, the competition only grew fiercer. Snow was hurled, scarves were stolen, and at one point, a rogue snowball fight broke out between the adults and the children. What started as a simple event quickly turned into what some are calling “The Battle of the Bogs”.
Amidst this chaos, one can’t forget the heroic efforts of the event’s unsung heroes — the spectators. They came in droves, bundled up in layer after layer of clothing, armed with thermos mugs filled with questionable beverages. They stood for hours, cheering on the contestants, booing the occasional poor snowman-building attempt, and, in one memorable instance, breaking into an impromptu conga line around a particularly impressive snowman who had mysteriously sprouted a third arm (or possibly a misplaced leg — it was hard to tell).
“It’s all about the community”, said one spectator, warming his hands over a small fire made from empty vodka bottles. “In a world as crazy as this, sometimes you just need to come together and build a giant snowman who looks like he’s had a little too much borscht”.
Judging the Madness
The panel of judges, each of whom had clearly lost a bet to be there, struggled to maintain composure as they surveyed the finished creations. Their criteria for judging remained a mystery to all, though it became evident that the more absurd and unidentifiable the snowman, the higher the score.
One of the highlights of the judging was a snowman that was not, in fact, a snowman at all but rather a snow version of a particularly large toilet complete with a lid, seat, and even a snowplunger. “It’s a statement”, said its creator, an aspiring artist from Moscow who refused to comment further when asked what, exactly, the statement was.
In the end, the grand prize — a golden toilet brush — was awarded to a team of college students who had constructed a snowman so large that it had to be disqualified on account of being a fire hazard. Their creation, which stood a towering 15 feet tall and had been made entirely from snow, beer cans, and regret, will likely go down in the annals of history as one of the greatest snow-based disasters of all time.
The Aftermath: What Happens When the Snow Melts?
As the sun set and the snow began to harden, the event came to a close. Participants trudged home, their boots soaked and their spirits somehow lifted. The snowmen, however, remained — a lasting testament to human perseverance, creativity, and questionable life choices.
But one can’t help but wonder: what happens to these snow sculptures when they inevitably melt away? Will the remnants of these frozen masterpieces become nothing more than puddles of slush and broken dreams? Or will they, like so many forgotten New Year’s resolutions, simply vanish into the cold air, leaving behind nothing but a faint whiff of toilet humor and poorly concealed vodka?
Only time will tell. But one thing is for certain: the Third Annual Moscow Snowman Showdown will be remembered for years to come, not because of the skill or artistry on display, but because it showed us what happens when humans are left unsupervised in sub-zero temperatures with nothing but snow, a few kitchen utensils, and a bizarre obsession with toilets.
Looking to the Future: What’s Next for the Snowman Showdown?
As rumors swirl about next year’s event, the residents of the Moscow suburbs are already preparing. Word on the street is that the 2025 edition may feature an entire snow-themed bathroom — complete with a working snow bidet, a snow bathtub, and possibly even a snow sauna (though the logistics of such an endeavor remain unclear).
There’s also talk of expanding the competition to include categories such as “Most Creative Use of Frozen Vegetables”, “Best Snowperson Representation of a Family Member You’d Rather Forget”, and the ever-popular “Snowman That Most Resembles a Pile of Laundry”.
Whatever happens, one thing is certain: the Moscow Snowman Showdown has carved out a place for itself in the hearts of the locals and the annals of absurd competitions worldwide.
And as one local put it, gazing at the remains of his snowman toilet masterpiece, “What a time to be alive”.
What a Country, What a Contest!
In a world of grandiose events like the Olympics and the World Cup, it’s easy to overlook the smaller, more intimate competitions that truly showcase the human spirit. The Moscow Snowman Showdown may not be the most glamorous event, but it’s certainly one of the most memorable — for reasons both good and horrifying.
As we pack away our scarves and hats, let’s take a moment to reflect on what we’ve learned from this great suburban spectacle. Sometimes, it’s not about winning or losing. It’s not even about making something recognizable. It’s about the joy of building something, even if that something looks suspiciously like a snowman stuck in an outhouse.
And to that we say: What a country, what a contest.
