Dara Happans don't hurl.

From: owner-glorantha_at_hops.wharton.upenn.edu
Date: Sun, 5 Mar 95 18:25:22 GMT


For the attention of:
Marcus Holonius Urius,
Sub-Procurer of Civic Spectacle and Diversion, Provincial Department of Cultural Affairs, Furthest.

On the matter of: Study of hill barbarian ball-and-stick games. Dispatched under the seal of: Ferekos Leandris. Under the auspices of: Irrippi Ontor Temple, Boldhome. Rescribed to: Temple archives, personal files, high priest. Mule Precedence: Moderate. Very moderate.

(* The Emperor's Provincial Provost of Post reminds you to

    always employ the correct District Designation Digits. *)

Esteemed Executor,

At your request I have I made further investigations of the games of the aboriginal inhabitants of the Quivin region, with particular reference to their hateful game of iorgh, or Iorgh!, as the conventions of Sartarite orthography would have it

Firstly, let me be forgiven if I sound aggrieved when I report that the indications I had been given that this was related to the sedate game of gouwf played on the Hendriki coastal margins proved sadly misleading. The similarities begin and end in that both are played with small hard balls and somewhat crook-like sticks. The northern game does not, I fear, come within the margins of same classification as a "stationary ball game", "non contact sport", or come to that, anywhere remotely close to any normal, sane, recognisable categorisation. A number of etymologies have been suggested to me for the name "iorgh", including from the local words for "to hurl" and "an affray", but it seems to relate principally to the interjections heard from players as they charge towards each other, wielding their clubs without due care and attention.

Equipment is a ball or "stone", traditionally a pebble but in practice any object approximating the spherical of about five to eight hektarods across. Some attempt may be made to enhance its visibility or distinctness, such as marking with woad or henna. Each player bears a stick, at its rudest simply a suitably-shaped small limb of a shrub, in some cases fashioned after the manner of a shepherd's crook. The keenest players sometimes have a wholly specialised implement, called a caman, which in the rural areas is much like a crook, straightened and flattened only a little, while the so-called urbanites favour one with a broader, shorter, almost entrenching-tool-like head. Each school of thought is extravagantly critical of the other in the matter of this difference.

Play is brutishly straightforward. Players attempt to strike the ball or stone with their sticks, in the generally forlorn hope of propelling it nearer the goal or "crioch" of the opposition. Such attempts are encumbered by alarmingly few rules: Not raising the caman above shoulder height; not deliberately striking, hooking or tripping an opponent; not handling or kicking the ball; all these and more seemingly failed to occur to the loutish inventors as sensible restrictions on gameplay for the continued bodily integrity of the participants. In what is laughingly called "open play" it is only considered appropriate to propel the ball forwards by use of the caman, but in a "slacan", the term used to dignify free-form rolling around, tussling for possession of the ball, the players seem to have _carte rouge_. Kicking the stone seems to be considered
"unsophisticated" play, but is certainly common enough, particularly
when foot is conveniently located, and stick is being employed to frequently violent effect elsewhere. Taking the ball in hand is an accepted part of the game, though is usually confined to making a brisk pass to a colleague, or throwing it up in the air the better to clout it with one's own caman. Holding on to the stone for a sustained period seems to be largely deterred by the traditional practice of giving a player a "dunt" on the head to encourage speedy release of the ball.

Teams are commonly of between twelve and fifteen members, though on occasion a whole village will play another without regard to equity of numbers. In less disorganised forms of the game, one player is designated
"criochachd", a barbaric-sounding term upon which I shall not assay to
expound as to pronunciation, seemingly denoting a goal-keeping function. The goals themselves are most often simply largish rocks or other features of the landscape, though sometimes, lacking these rude facilities, a cairn of smaller rocks is constructed to serve the same purpose. Yet other schemes involve daubing a target area on some other feature, such as the face of an escarpment or the side of some ramshackle farm out-building. The most "organised" and "civilised" of players (you will understand I use these terms with the greatest looseness, and indeed reluctance) have specially constructed wooden target shapes of uniform size, to forestall claims of an undue advantage accruing to either side in the event of any discrepancy.

In some forms of the game reported to me, but which I did not observe personally, scoring is by some other method, or is apparently neglected entirely. I received a report from the Eastern Military Sub-District by the somewhat bemused dakkanomarsh commanding a patrol near a small village of the region, where he had observed several score locals of two clans making rapid circumnavigation of the settlement, their caman waving aloft and clattering together in a most alarming way. He writes that his file had stood open-mouthed for some moments, unsure of whether a brawl, religious rite, or some other primitive custom. When he in due course decided it must be what passes for sporting recreation, he continued to observe, but although the entire riotous group made several complete tours around the village, without any apparent purpose. He describes nothing which would be construable as a "goal" in any of the forms of the game known to me. Nonetheless, all participants repaired in due course to the proverbial local hostelry, in apparently high spirits.

The "goals" are typically about 50 rods apart, though this is strongly conditioned by wherever there happen to be a couple of suitably-sized rocks. Any concept such as a "field of play" seems to have entirely escaped the originators. No only is the area between the goals typically neither cleared or level, being simply an scrap of land with no better use, but the stone may travel almost any difference from the goals without any cessation of play. Unless the stone flies into a field of ripening crops, the house of a local dignitary, or the den of some particularly bad-tempered animal, the stick-flailing maniacs continue to pursue it to the point of mutual exhaustion. This is partly mitigated at important games by the likelihood of an early carom of some hapless spectator, but I myself witnessed an incident wherein four players pursued the stone a full two key miles down the valley, while another three unrelated fights occurred to the neglect of the ball (including one between two members of the same side), the rest of the players taking this as a cue to variously sit and pant for breath, obtain refreshment and chat to onlookers. The Iorjarl of the home stead had, by the time play hoved back within earshot, industriously consumed four pieces of jerked mutton, negotiated the sale of three sacks of oats to a visiting spectator and imposed ad hoc Orlanthi justice on the two disputants of his "team".

Spectators cheerily regaled me with anecdotes of play being carried forth through the shallows of the local lake, into the lower branches of a birch tree, through the clan longhouse, into the territory of a neighbouring tribe, and in one much-remembered incident, merging into the game being played by another clan. From the smirking that accompanied the statement that the subsequent goal was disallowed due to being scored with the other clan's ball, I suspect that some exaggeration was at work here.

In fairness to the natives, even some of these benighted souls seem to realise that this game is more than a little touched by Eurmal. Whilst making independent investigations of aboriginal customs relating to execution, euthanasia and suicide, which I previously reported under separate cover, some wag wryly appended "taking up iorgh" as a nomination in all three categories. Indeed.

Yours despondently,
Ferekos Leandris,
Provincial Field Study Unit,
Irrippi Ontor Temple of the Inner Light of Knowledge, Boldhome.


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