Kids, don’t try this at home. During the winter of seventh grade, dozens of classmates and I resurrected an old game called “Ma Say.” We’d scarf down our lunches as fast as we could, don our snow gear, and spend the rest of our lunch recess on the snow covered playground that became the playing field.
The game itself was simple enough. All the players but one would gather at one end of the playing field, demarcated by a line that ran parallell to the back of the cafeteria. The other end of the field was at the other end of the cafeteria. One person would volunteer to be in the middle.
The game started when the player in the middle called “Ma Say.” All the players on the other end charged to the other side of the field while the person in the middle tackled as many players as possible. The players tackled joined the person in the middle and helped tackle in the next round. The last person tackled was the proud winner, and ruled the middle at the start of the next game.
I was a string bean in seventh grade, and very uncoordinated. The most success I had in Ma Say was when we had a huge number playing (sometimes we’d have almost a hundred) and I would wander discretely down the sidelines trying not to draw attention to myself. Once I made it to the last round. When everyone noticed I hadn’t been tackled, the gig was up and I was pounced on immediately.
This kid we called Fozzie was the greatest Ma Say player ever. He’d always be the last one tackled. Instead of trying to evade the throng of tacklers, he’d run right into them with reckless abandon. I would marvel as he would break dozens of tackles, often dragging three or four unsuccessful tacklers across the end line with him.
All good things come to an end though. The game got so big and so brutal that after one lunch period, there were three bloody noses, a broken arm and one concussion. The administration banned the game, and playground monitors stood menacingly in the spot where Fozzie once ruled the day.
Now, as a teacher, I wonder what I would do if I saw the carnage that was Ma Say being played in the field behind my school. In our litigious society, it would be a matter of minutes before it brought on a lawsuit. Part of me likes to think I’d turn a blind eye and let the kids be kids, bruises, bloody noses and all, in the name of fun.