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Montegue Blister’s
Strange Games and other odd things to do with your time
Montegue Blister
Disclaimer: This book has been written as a source of reference for traditional and modern games. The majority of games contained in this book are generally considered safe and of low hazard, but please exercise common sense and take all necessary care if playing. Adult supervision of children under the age of 16 is highly recommended. The author and the publishers do not accept any responsibility for any harm that may occur from your decision to play the games contained in this book.
To Siân & Issy
Table of Contents
In 1972, whilst walking towards my brother in our unassuming suburban living room, he flicked out his foot cleverly, catching me on my ankle bone. This caused me to momentarily lose my balance, stumble, then come crashing down onto the Axminster carpet—my head narrowly missing the doily-covered arm of our brown Dralon sofa. Walking Trippy, the game, was born. Then, after just a few hours of experimentation, the rules and strategies for this English Gentleman’s martial art were in place.
Thirty years later, after a night of reminiscing, I decided it was time that the whole world was made aware of Walking Trippy—and the blog Strange Games was born. As the blog grew I received many emails that mentioned other great, almost forgotten games, such as Split the Kipper and Spectacular Deaths, as well as queries such as what is the best game for keeping a party of hyperactive seven-year-olds under control (that would be Underpants Jumping—see page 39, if you are wondering). And now, three years on, I give you Strange Games, the book.
The aim of this book is to detail strange games, unusual sports and bizarre festivals; to reclaim the nation’s MTVd-, MP3d-, Bluetoothed-enabled youth. Its mission: to crowbar a generation of sofa-sitting lazy bastards off their backsides and send them, eager and smiling, off to the shin-kicking fields of the Cotswolds. If it results in even one headrest-embedded DVD player being ripped out so that the kids in the back of the car can concentrate on Finger Jousting or slamming their knuckles down on each other, its job will be done.
This book also includes party games, but there is no mention of pass the parcel and there are no games where you dress like Britney Spears and freeze when the music stops. Instead, there are games like Bucketheads, Body Surfing, and politically incorrect gems like Slave Market. And in this time where children’s parties get ever more expensive (as parents spend small fortunes employing professional entertainers for their little Joshuas and Jemimas and mobile phones become standard fare for party bags), Strange Games makes the revolutionary suggestion that maybe all you need to entertain the little terrors is a roll of gaffer tape and a modicum of imagination.
The world of unusual festivals and sports is well covered here, with entries on events from the well-known Cheese Rolling to the obscure, but soon to be Olympic, sport of Watermelon Ski-ing. Fruit and vegetables seem to play a large part in this world: if you are not strapping them to your feet you are throwing them, spitting their seeds, or head-butting them. Of note in this area of oddness are two locales: Finland and Gloucestershire. Both these places can make claim to being capitals of strange games, with Finland being represented by Swamp Soccer, Mobile Phone Throwing, and Wife Carrying (to name but three), and Gloucestershire by Shin Kicking, Cheese Rolling and Woolsack Carrying.
At the back of this book is a calendar detailing various strange events to go and see. Many of these are open to both spectators and new competitors. The chance to become a world champion in life is rare, but the odds greatly increase if you enter the World Worm Charming Festival or the Frozen Pea Throwing Championships.
And as the nation slips unconsiously into a homogeneous mass of couch-dwelling, fast-food guzzling idiots who watch documentaries about obese people that only eat cheese having their lives changed by Scottish poo inspectors, it is time to grab these aforementioned lazy bastards by their melon balls and force them to Toe Wrestle or play Mob Football, or, at the very least, find their nearest field so they can pick up a cow pat and fling it.
If just one person reads this book and decides to start a Dwile Flunking team, I can rest happy and look forward to meeting my maker with the knowledge that I have played my part in making the world a better place. When I close my eyes I have a vision of St Peter opening those pearly gates, smiling as I walk towards him, his hands extended towards me, palms pressed together. I can see his peaceful face now, as I quickly raise one of my hands and slap the back of one of his as hard as I can.
