From the Colorado Springs Gazette:
On the playground of a northern Colorado Springs elementary school, tag is not “it.â€Â
The touch-and-run game and any other form of chasing was banned this year at Discovery Canyon Campus’ elementary school by administrators who say it fuels schoolyard disputes.
“It causes a lot of conflict on the playground,†said Assistant Principal Cindy Fesgen. In the first days of school, before tag was banned, she said students would complain to her about being chased or harassed.
Fesgen said she would hear: “Well, I don’t want to be chased, but he won’t stop chasing me, or she won’t stop chasing me.â€Â
Fesgen said two parents complained to her about the demise of tag, but she said that generally, parents and children didn’t fuss about the new rules. Running games are still OK, she said, as long as students don’t run after one another.
Allow me to pause here so that you can soak in the image of a pack of grade schoolers sprinting wily-nilly in 40 individual directions for 40 different purposes, each of them careful not to “run after” another — for freedom!
Gloriously surreal, isn’t it?
But I digress:
Nationally, several schools have done away with tag and other games because of the accidents and arguments they can lead to. It’s a trend that has rankled some parents and childhood experts who say games such as tag contribute to children’s social and physical development.
Social engineers who attempt to do away with all “accidents” and “arguments” are only preparing children to fail when they encounter these inevitabilities of human interaction outside of the school setting.
And let’s face it — not a single adult who endorses this kind of nannystate behavior was ever good at tag to begin with.
Leveling “self-esteem” to the point where we are each equal in every regard gives us no basis to judge at what we truly excel.
Rather than banning tag, I think VPs like Ms. Fesgen should be strapped to a chair, Clockwork Orange-style, and forced to watch The Incredibles over and over until either the message takes, or else they succumb to the delicious technicolor beating it promises to administer.
(h/t Lyndsey)
Good thing nobody ever has to deal with arguments or accidents after grade school. Phew!
That school sounds more like a veal pen than a real functioning schoolyard.
These are the same people that ban dodgeball, because they were the ones that still have the imprint of those red rubber balls on their foreheads.
Oh I hated dodgeball. It’s a horrible game. Maybe it wasn’t so bad in grade school when none of us could throw worth anything but we had to play it in jr. high when we had gym uniforms (ie. bare skin) and a couple of the guys had got their growing on and a little bit of coordination to go with it.
Ouch!
Tag now… if you’re not playing you don’t run and when you get “tagged” you don’t freeze and if someone says “you’re it!” you ignore them and continue to walk toward the waiting line at the swing set.
Stupid uniforms were sleeveless for the girls so not only was it bare legs but there wasn’t even T-shirt sleeves for dulling the slap on a shoulder hit.
Gawd I hate dodgeball.
;-)
Synova – Dodgeball, and its bastard variation, Soup, were the only things I can remember about Junior High. Loved them.
Instead of using “playground squabbles” as a way to teach kids in a real world environment how to cope with conflict or even develop conflict resolution skills we seek to eliminate conflict all together? Good God! Teachers and parents are getting so lazy these days. This is on the same level as eliminating the grading system and giving every student a smiley face on their report card. I would argue that social skills are just as important as math or science skills. So why eliminate squabbles? I would also argue that a child’s ability to deal with success and failure is just as important as being able to do long division, even more so. So why eliminate the grading system?
As a new parent, I spend a great deal of time watching various adults in positions of authority interact with children. Hence, I have noticed that many parents, teachers and school officials just seem to lazy to teach kids the hard lessons in life; It sucks to lose, It sucks to get an F or a D in a class, It sucks to get into an altercation with another person, it sucks to lose an argument and it especially sucks to get a school yard beat-down. I know because I was on the giving and receiving end of many. However, I think these are the situations you learn the most from in life and it is better to do that learning in the safety of the school yard then in the reality of the real world.
Sometimes I wonder if progressives just want to raise a whole generation of people who are completely incapable of functioning in the real world without “big brother” or the “nanny state”.
Seriously. Are the teachers too dumb to say “don’t run?”
In first grade, we always played “girls chase boys” (we never caught them, and I’m not sure what we’d have done with them if we did), and ever single day I fell on the asphalt and tore my knee open along with another pair of tights.
Wow. I coulda got that flesh-eating bacteria. They shoulda banned chasing games when I was in first grade, or I’d still have my leg.
Oh wait. I do.
Stupid teachers and admins. They think that the most important stuff you learn in school is how to add and read. (Would that they’d learn even that!) But the REAL lessons you learn are how to deal with other people, coping with bullying, obnoxious behavior, failure, how to follow instructions, how to be where you’re supposed to be on time, how to finish an assignment on time, even if you hate it, and how to do boring things without jamming a fork in your eye.
Their parents ought to organize an after-school playgroup with lawn darts, EZ Bake Ovens, pellet guns, and sharp staves.
I want to be on record endorsing the “strap the VP’s into the chairs and watch “The Incredibles” concept. Genius!
However, there are worse places to go and get wimpified educational ideas. “Rethinking Schools”, along with other bug eyed namby pambyness, published an article by two teachers who banned playing with … wait for it … Legos:
(emphasis mine)
http://www.rethinkingschools.org/archive/21_02/lego212.shtml
In other words, the best way to resolve conflict is to take away something that might give you playing pleasure rather than use the material to, idon’t know, actually teach frackin’ possession and conflict resolution? Those kids should be well prepared to trade garlic cloves for camel hair shirts in the commune.
Don’t read too much from that website or you will develop tooth decay and your sense of humor will scream in agony.
Tag violators, of course, should be put into the juvenile criminal justice system, perhaps even locked up, to teach them a lesson.
The violence in tag is eclipsed by the brutality of “Red Rover.” As a particularly violent kid mostly raised by wolves, I refused to release the hand of my playmates when someone tried to break through the line.
There was a lot of slobbery crying involved, and I almost always got a “goose egg” on my grade card for “Plays Well With Others.”
But winning that damn game did wonders for my self-esteem!
Let’s not forget the martial patriarchal dominance indoctrination that was part and parcel of “Capture the Flag.” Ambushing other students, capturing them, subjected them to to mocking and tortures beyond the pale and the ability of children to absorb, it brought out the worse primal tribal urges, despite the strategizing, cooperation, teamwork and glorious, wide acre fun.
To this day everytime I see a ragged beach towel tied to a stick I shudder in horror… or excitement.
Remember: No example of anything that happens at any school anywhere, no matter how often it happens everywhere, is representative of anything but your being a crazy loser for noticing it.
NO FUSSIN’!
Yet another example of why teachers should be recruited from any discipline BUT Education Majors. Our children are being “educated” by those with no concept of how things actually work in the real world. And yes, most of them sucked at dodgeball, tag and anything else requiring competitiveness or physical courage (even the grade school variety).
#11 Cowboy
Oh how I loved Red Rover!!! Didn’t take some of the new guys on the block long to learn that the tall girl with the torn jeans had a vice grip, didn’t cry and could dish it right back …
If I wasn’t a captain I certain was one of the first round picks
now adays I believe teachers would probably rear up in horror to see how physical we’d all play together (wrestling, Indian burns, punching each other) and call the cops for possible sexual harassment charges.
Indian burns !!!!! Yes, I had forgotten about them. And wedgies that drew blood.
Red Rover – When the runner would get clothes-lined, land flat on back, and you would hear that sound of their breath rushing out of their body, followed by nervous laughter from people that were glad that did not happen to them.
Geez, I remember when it was considered a badge of honor for both thrower and recipient in dodgeball if the victim was actually knocked completely off of his/her feet. One guy in my eighth grade class, six feet tall and already shaving, was called the “Scream Maker” because his ball achieved warp speed when it was thrown (I’ll never forget the sound it made.) When he was on the opposite team, winning was less important than surviving!
I was kind of a whiney kid but I winter camped, shot skeet, did two survival courses, fished offshore in high seas, rock climbed, wilderness canoe/camped and played every rough house injury-waiting-to-happen game imaginable, all before the age of fourteen.
Note to educators: I was considered less adventuresome than most of my friends.
I remember one year they added a merry-go-round thing to our grade school playground, a round thing made of 2x6s with pipe hand rails that the girls would push lightly then ride around. Occasionally us older boys would commandeer it, get it spinning at crazy speeds while empty, then try to run and jump on it- without using your hands. Resulted in many insane crashes, abrasions and bruises, and we roared with laughter the whole time.
Most of our recess were spent in similar, high speed, high impact, adrenaline burning craziness. I don’t think it is a coincidence we didn’t need Ridallin. I would really hate to be a kid in today’s world.
Simple . Issue them all helmets , elbow pads , knee pads , shoulder pads , and an attorney . Sucks to be a kid these days , sheesh , let em play .
I dunno – even as a kid I kinda felt that if you fell off the monkey bars and busted open your tiny little head it was a sign from God that you’re too stupid to live, or at least to use a complicated device like a bunch of interconnected pipes…
But that’s just me.
B Moe – We tried to spin the merry-go-round as fast as we could by tying a rope to the handles, essentially winding it up, and then pulling it with our dirt bike, a Can Am Qualifier. Hilarity ensued.
Comment by BJTexs on 9/4 @ 12:16 pm
That statement by the teachers in the article is right out of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
All I know is, I’m starting to see some of these twentysomething types who were raised that way and they don’t function right in the workplace. We have real problems coming down the pike if this crap doesn’t get straightened out pretty soon…
Tag I can understand. We’re still good on Smear the Queer though, right? RIGHT!?
What kind of lame sockpuppetry is that?
Or just a random troll?
Ok. I could just be confused there. I wanted to share Alphie’s thoughts on playgrounds. Just cause I got nothing else.
Is that for real an issue?
The merry-go-round on our playground was mounted on a ball joint atop a pole. It didn’t just spin at insane speeds, you could get it to rock — enough to get the frame to slam against the pole. You could remove someone’s fingers if you got it going hard enough.
It says something about us that, despite trying, it never happened.
I took it for an extremely subtle jab at the homo-hate coming from the left.
I didn’t get it. I had a vague sense someone was impersonating JD and screwed up.
In a Missoula MT playground, we would get the swings to go as high as possible–so that when we reached the apex of the swing, the chains were almost parallel with the ground. Then, when we were behind the bar, almost ready to begin the descent, we would flip the chains over our heads, along with the swing and “jump” the ten or so feet to the ground.
One of the first of my many head injuries occurred when the swing inadvertently crashed into the back of my head, which resulted in straightening my body parallel to the ground. Gravity being what it is, I fell. Trying to break said fall, I broke my left arm and my nose (the first of four times–now it is absurdly straight!).
The result of this carnage? My father spanked me with his belt, my mother told me how stupid I was….but no one thought to sue the student housing project, the University of Montana, or the state of Montana itself.
Weird, huh?
“Weird, huh?”
Nope .
These are the same people that ban dodgeball, because they were the ones that still have the imprint of those red rubber balls on their foreheads.
We played dodgeball through HS using partially deflated balls, when the ball hit it just stopped and you absorbed all the energy. We played in a 30×30 or so room; there was no place to hide. The PE teacher I was lucky enough to get was also a retired Marine DI and when you made a *sissy* throw he would yell at you. I think that I’m a better person for having done this.
My son and his Scout buddies play capture the flag in the dark with light sticks. It is an occasionally rough game that none of the adults ask questions about (and none of the boys complains they work it out amongst themselves). The troop camps 11 months out of the year, no matter the weather, it’s been below 0 degrees F and we still sleep in tents. I think all the young men that I’ve associated with in the troop (over 20 Eagle Scouts in 8 years) are better people for their experiences, Eagle or not. These young men learn leadership and how to resolve problems as part of the program, as a matter of fact it’s required. I have to say that I know some 13 year olds that are more mature that some of the kids my son went to high school with.
Hopefully some (most) of the kids that the teachers are screwing up will at least spend some time in a good scouting (or equivalent) program.
/rant
Remember high dives? They were pretty ubiquitous when I was a wee one. Now they are like seeing a friggen Sasquatch. Remember Jarts? Remember when they disappeared? Me neither. I just looked up one day and they were gone.
toys that kill
#31 Cowboy
We took the opposite tact on the swing… going as high as you could, than in the forward swing, leaning forward out of the swing..in essense catapulting yourself out-up-and-forward… you got a few nanoseconds of weightlessness, then you leaned forward enough to hit the ground straight into a forward roll.
DELICIOUS … I turned my ankle a few times (turned it worst when friends and I would jump off the top of ladders) but it the “flight” was well worth it.
Another fun game was to squeeze at least 3 kids into my metal red wagon and careen down the street (we lived on a small hill) and try to make the curve at the bottom
we never did … overturning the wagon and spilling out to scraped knees and elbows and a determination to try yet again.
You are right, happyfeet, not me. I would not hint around about Smear the Queer. I would state, in no uncertain terms, that the hardest hit I ever took was in junior high, playing smear the queer. I did not fully regain my senses, to this day. Great game.
Oh. I totally misunderstood. How lame am I? Never heard of smear the queer. Or kill the dill with the pill. Or boojum ball. Reminds me though, wasn’t JG at one point going to hook up with a baseball league? I should put put feelers to see if anyone here in LA is nostalgic for a little smear the queer. Maybe a newspaper ad…
I guess smear the queer is out of the question?
Oh – And sorry JR.
Hey!
How’s it goin’, guys?
Long time, no see.
If only PIATOR, timmah, and actus would drop by for a visit now.
And yes, alphie, a nice friendly game of Dodgeball or Smear the Queer would be exceptionally fun if you were playing.
*looks at #41*
happyfeet, you are dead to me.
uhohs. I was kind of hoping no one would notice that. .
I are sorry.
for reals
aaaaaaw! okay.
Billy games were the best! Take any part of a sport that could be made to induce injury and maximize its potential and you had a Billy game. Billy-Bat for instance involved batting progressively smaller objects off each others heads. The winner got a concussion! I never actually knew anybody who played Billy-Bat, but pointing out some borderline retarded kid to a new kid and mentioning how smart he was before he “won” a game of Billy-Bat was always fun. Two Billy games we actually played were Billy-Bases and Billy-Tackle. In Billy-Bases two or four or six kids would stand behind the batter. If the batter hit the ball the half the kids would run the bases in one direction and half in the other direction. Knocking the opposing runner(s) down was part of the game. I was too skinny to knock anyone down but I could dodge or take the hit without going down and frequently beat the other guy back to home. The school where I attended fifth grade had acres of beautiful grass. Of course Billy-Tackle wasn’t played on the grass, it was played on a square of gravel encrusted hard clay the game consisted of everyone but It lining up on one side of the square. When “It” said go everyone ran to the other side with “It” tackling anyone he could. Those tackled immediately joined It. Those who made it across would then line up and repeat the process until the last person got dogpiled. Being the only one to make it across and having to charge into a solid line of tacklers PRICELESS!
ccoffer – Our local pool still has a 3 meter springboard and a 5 & 10 meter platform dive, though they are usually closed. Something about overweight middle aged men trying to relive their youth and face planting or belly busting from 10 meters.
happyfeet – Hopefully, this was only a minor infestation. Actually, it was fun to read alphie’s site, because he/she/it actually makes a point now and then.
Smear the queer? We called it “Dog Pile”. I guess that is right out too – thanks to Michael Vick…
Smear the queer on asphalt. That’s what I’m talking about. Oh, and good old fashioned football on asphalt. Hey, we would have preferred a grass field to play on, but in the middle of the city that was hard to find. The recess mothers didn’t seem to care too much, unless it got out of hand. But, my mom was none too pleased to keep finding ripped pants. The gaping hole in my knee? That was my problem, but replacing pants cost money!
The ASPCA will be contacting you soon, Maj. John.
Speaking of football …
A mere 34 hours until the Colts defend their Super Bowl title !
“A mere 34 hours until the Colts defend their Super Bowl title”
Oh yeah. In a mere 4 days my Browns get to, once again, demonstrate the futility which is Cleveland Browns football.
Obstreperous Infidel – How can you go wrong with a coke-dealing running back, a collection of QB’s that combined together amount to an average QB, and a TE that cares more about riding his crotch rocket than playing football?
On the other hand, Cleveland was one of the toughest places on visiting fans that I have encountered. It comes in third, waaaaaaaaay behind Baltimore, and only slightly behind Philadelphia.
You’d think these idiots would LIKE Tag. After all, boys and girls running around calling each other “it”, which completely does away with those pesky gender labels. No future patriachs, no future feminine victims, just little “its” running around.
I did my part, by buying a disassembled play set that had been sitting around for about 15 years: Big 4x4x10′ lumber, 5 platforms, fireman’s pole, rope swing, pirate’s ladder and a swinging bridge. I did put carpet scraps around the post that the tire-swing occupants kept grazing with their heads, but otherwise it’s just like nature intended. :)
Yeah, JD, the fans are rabid. The “hope” is always alive and as depressing as this city has become that’s saying something.
I have to say, though, that I am holding out some hope that they finally have a professional QB on the roster in Quinn. Whether the o-line comes along as hoped (there’s that word again) is another matter.
Smear the Queer was a great game! One guy has a ball, and everyone else tries to kick the crap out of that guy and take the ball. I had no idea what a queer was in middle school, so for me it was just a term of art from that game. It teaches you some pretty great life lessons, such as what to do if you get mugged by a gang, and that eventually, the house always wins. I remember my parents being somewhat horrified, but as long as I didn’t tear my uniform they didn’t complain. I think school uniforms really add to the game, because you’re being chased by an organized group. It’s got a real Invasion of the Body Snatchers vibe to it.
1. We still have lawn darts, and in fact had great fun playing with them this past weekend.
2. The Incredibles is too good for these idiots.
3. Has everyone seen NFL Predictions Using Star Wars Characters already?
O. Infidel:
Stay away from Squid’s link:
Cleveland Browns: 3-13 (picture of…) Jawas
They are small, brown and constantly trading for junk.
Ouch! (heh)
isnt this why kids of every generation think that adults are complete idiots?
We still okay on Hide And Go Seek?
Cuz I was really good at that one.
There are people STILL looking for me.
#60 – Gabriel
A popular game when I was in elementary school in Oklahoma in the late 1940’s was “1,2,3 BlackMan”, a variant of tag we liked because you had to get three hits on a person’s back before they were “it”. It wasn’t until I was reminiscing about school many years later that the origin of that game dawned on me.
When I was a kid, we had the best game. It was played on a grass soccer field. One boy was it, and the rest of the boys simply chased him and knocked him down, while the it boy got to beat them back. Violent? Yes. Best game ever? Yes.
Playground antics always included Smear-the-queer, dodgeball (we called it bombardo), and a game we called wallball. Wallball consisted of a group of 40-some odd boys throwing a ball against a wall with the object of not missing the wall (or having the ball blocked) or bouncing before getting to the wall. If a ball was caught, then the catcher threw the ball against the wall (from the site of the catch) and the game proceeded. If the ball was dropped then the person who dropped the ball had to touch the wall before someone beaned him with the dropped ball. If the wall was missed, then the thrower had to touch the wall before being beaned. If you were beaned three times, you had to endure the ultimate punishment — the firing squad. One person was chosen to administer the firing squad and had 1 free shot to hit the person who was being fired upon. If the punisher missed the punishee, he had to tag the wall, etc. Game was hella fun. We initiated with a tennis ball, progressed to a raquetball, adventured up to the handball (bad idea), and continued with the raquetball through junior high.
Another boys will be boys moment was when my best friend and I decided to shoot blunt ended arrows at each (fashioned from tomato plant poles) with his kid brother’s toy bow. The object of the game was to see who could dodge the incoming arrows. We would race across the yard (across the line of fire) and the other would shoot. And yes we took turns. I took one to the ankle, I got my buddy in the arm. Not bad for a pair of non-hunters.
Other swing games:
We used to shove a pencil in the ground under the swing, then (while swinging) flip upside down on the swing (hook your feet around the chain so you don’t go anywhere, hopefully) and try to grab the pencil.
We also used to run back and forth in between the swings standing sideways so you don’t get hit. Or even better, we tried to low crawl under the swings (while your buddies tried to kick you).
Good times, good times.
I loved dodgeball, and was pretty good at it. Not the throwing – that part always bored me – but being on the receiving side? Being the last one standing? That part was awesome! Everyone else shooting at you, as you frantically skipped and jumped and twisted? Even though you were eventually going to get hit, that was the best part, the whole glass gunning for you and you still surviving. Several times I was able to run out the clock and still be standing when recess ended – truly Homeric!
Imagine my disgust when I got to high school and found out in track and field that the javelin toss was strictly one way.
Once a friend and I got some glow in the dark paint and thought we could play badminton on a moonless night. So we doctored the shuttlecock and had at it. The problem was, the paint was so low intensity that you couldn’t see it until it was within six feet, and if it was coming right at you all you could do was get hit. I suppose I should be grateful that we didn’t try it with lawn darts… and in retrospect I have no idea why it hadn’t occurred to us.
It won’t be long before the rule is, “you can’t do anything fun.”
For people with degrees, they sure are stupid.
Back in my days in elementary school you could get paddled for breaking rules. Yes I broke rules. Yes I got caught. Yes I was paddled. I haven’t turned into a mass murderer (yet). I also had to walk 10 miles to school up hill (both ways) in a blizzard.
Give a guy a big, red, rubber ball and every other guy he sees will need to be hit in the nuts with it. Man! Those were good times!
I am not making this up.
I had a high school P.E. coach who invented a game called Coneball, motivated (I believe) by his preference for flirting with the girls’ P.E. coach over refereeing our exercise period. Coneball had only two rules:
1. You score by knocking over the other team’s cone, which sits in a 10′ by 10′ neutral zone.
2. You may not break bones or shed blood.
We were supplied with a large pink rubber Dodgeball-style ball, and it seemed to be a third unwritten rule that the ball was what we were supposed to use to knock over the cone. However, that was not actually explicitly stated anywhere in the rules, and I believe the bigger guys tested the rules at least once by seeing if they could score by picking up a non-jock (read: nerd) on the other team and using *him* to knock over the opposing cone. They reasoned that if they threw him gently enough, he might not visibly bleed or break any bones, or at least any *important* bones.
We were trusted to keep our own score, and the coach assumed there would be loud screaming or some other indication that he needed to tear himself away from his conversation with the girls’ coach if Rule #2 was violated.
Most of us non-jocks (read: nerds) made ourselves as small as possible as soon as the game started.
I don’t like veal pen mentality, but it would be preferable to this coach’s mentality.
Bottle-rocket wars. You take the stick of the bottle rocket and place it down the barrel of the bb-gun. Then go on patrol in the scrub. If you see the other guy, you light it up, aim, and hope for a hit. Lot’s of unsafe fun.
In kindergarten we had a small jungle-gym, shaped like a space capsule. You climed to the top, then let go and leapt to the center, grabbing for a center pole to fireman-slide to the base.
Chickenfights involved a horizental ladder; you would swing out and kick at the other guy to get him to let go and drop first. In my class I pioneered the “kick block, then wrap your legs around his shoulders and push down”. It was ruled (by us six-seven year olds) as a fair tactic.
Dodgeball?
Tag?
Smear the Queer?
Launch off a swing at maximum arc?
Yep to all.
Jump bikes?
Tow people behind your bike?
Launch the wagon down hill with a third world passenger capacity?
Cannonball from the highest board?
Camp out?
Have a weekly paper route at age ten?
Sail a small boat for hours on the lake?
Take a leaky boat down river, across a marl lake (Marl Lake, actually) and downriver to the pullout eight hours later where dad was waiting with the station wagon?
Go running through the woods in barefeet?
Flashlight tag?
Running around like a self-destructive idiot (i.e., a boy for all those new elementary school teachers)?
Yep to all. Lord, that was fun.
Not exactly playground stuff, but related to it.
When I was law-clerking I found a superball. Yes, one of those mothers a seven year old could throw at the pavement hard enough to have it go over the house. Anyway, I had this superball, and during lunch I was in my little office. I threw it out the door at the floor next to the wall opposite. The ball would hit the floor, bounce into the wall, then arc high into my office. The game was to catch it before it hit the floor ( iwas seated in my office chair, so any misses meant I had to get it. One time I threw it. A judge was walking past to visit my judge. The ball hit the floor in front of his feet, hit the wall as he passed, and bounced back into my office as he went by.
Couldn’t ever have planned that.
I caught the ball, looked out, and said “Sorry about that, your worship.”
Judge Chylinski just waved and said something like “No problem.”
Nice to work around people like that, a guy.
(N.B.: My judge wouldn’t have batted an eye – he had five kids and when he wasn’t judge he was cabbie and “goalie”.)
One last: Towing behind a bike worked best with one that had a banana seat. The kid would either hold the back metal-loop on the seat, or you would use a rope. The towee would be wearing roller-skates. Not pansy roller blades, the metal skates that would be strapped to the bottom of your sneakers (Keds or Converse) with a skate key (if you lost yours, someone would always have one – a communal skate-key) and with the loud-as-a-garbage-truck metal skate wheels. Think of low speed water-skiing on concrete, with a bonus if the tower could hop the curb and you could hang on and make it to the sidewalk before being towed across the grass back to the street.
Days of Bactine, Neosporin, and Band-Aids. (If really bad – PhisoHex.)
I don’t get it! Stupid people think that ‘tag’ causes fights? i will say it again: I DON’T GET IT!
[…] 6, 2007 at 1:06 pm · Filed under Politics Jeff at Protein Wisdom has an interesting article and commentary on a spot about the elimination of tag at an elementary school: And let’s face it  not a single adult who endorses this kind of nannystate behavior was ever […]
We moved from NY to Missouri when I was eight. We were very poor. We didn’t have a “sled” but what we did have was a panel sheet (i.e., the cheap stuff poor people paneled their basements with). Yes, there were at least 4, maybe 6, of us, on that laminated panel, careening down a Lake Road (i.e, gravel) with boulders being the only thing keeping you from a 20-foot drop off the side of the rocky road. Oh, did I mention, an Irish Setter chasing you the whole way, trying to bite any flailing item of clothing (hat, scarf, gloves). It’s a wonder we ever survived, or were ever allowed to partake of this activity. I think it came under the 1970’s parental heading of “Hot Damn, the kids are out of the house for a few hours!”
As difficult a concept as this is for modern educators to fathom, my friends and I carried pocket knives to school from the time we were in 1st grade. In grade school we used to play “stretch”. Start with both feet together. The other guy does the same. Take turns trying to stick your knife blade in the ground outside his feet. Wherever it sticks, he has to move a foot there. When a part of your body (hand, knee, behind, etc.) touches the ground you lose.
We also played “chicken” with knives, which as you might imagine, works the opposite way, but we usually only played that in winter when we were wearing boots.