Here is the second installment of Part Two of A Trek Into the Past.
Hantam Bola, Marbles and Table Tennis
by
Yakkity Yak
Talking about mass-games, besides the usual marbles, we had “hantam bola”, which is, I am reliably told, mysteriously banned from schools today. It was played with a water-soaked tennis ball and hurled with great might at whoever was within firing-range. Not surprisingly, often times our white shirt or pants would bear the mud-stained stamp of the bola. We, however, played this game with greater relish when we were in secondary 1, with a football. We progressed from the rudimentary and somewhat primitive ‘aim and hurl’ routine to ‘aim and shoot’ sequence. This is definitely a more adult-game. We have raised the already quite macho-game to the equivalent of the present day extreme-sport, at least comparatively if not absolutely. But what made the game more appealing then, was that our opponents were a class of ‘matured’ students, assembled from various Chinese schools to form a special School Certificate Class or the present day O-level. They wore long pants and so presented us a larger surface-area for us to stamp them with the much dreaded soccer-size ball-print.
I often silently deride those who make such a boast about their ability to keep their white school attire spotless and without any ball stains after a hectic bout of bola hatam. Little did they realize that their much vaunted reference to their pristine-white uniform betrayed the fact that they were never in the game at all. Just in case they still do not know after all these dreadful years, let me remind them that it is a trite and stale fact (as stale as last night’s nasi goreng) that to be in the game you must make a real scramble for the loose ball. Since only one man can win in this mad melee, you will inescapably be within striking distance of the person who eventually won the ball at the break-down. According to the yet to be written playing-manual, the technical phrase for this is: “To be able to hantam, you must risk being hantamed.” This is the first canon of the game of bola hantam. Come on, accept it! This is that sacred, immutable law of the game!
As for marbles, (also known as “Go-li”) there were the game of glass marbles and the regular stone marbles. A ‘goondu’ glass marble is much sought after and held a premium over the lesser others. Stone marbles were played in two ways. The first is “benda” (or something that sounded like that) in which those who ‘pasang’ would have their marbles placed within a rectangular shaped box drawn on the dirt-filled playground while the ‘Chyak Bak’ (literally the ‘eat flesh’) group will shoot these marbles from a line drawn some distance away from the rectangular box. The second version of the game is “lobang” or “hole”. This is quite a complicated process, and I cannot remember all the details.
I stand corrected but I think at the start of the game everyone had to twirl the marble towards the hole. The one nearest the hole earned the right to start the game. The starter’s objective is to strike all the other players’ marbles in succession. If he can, he wins. He stopped at the point when he failed to strike another player’s marble. The opportunity then goes to the player whose marble is second nearest the hole, during the start-up of the game. It then goes on in this fashion.
Marbles were a hazardous game when I was in Primary Six because there was a certain player we all feared. He had such a tempestuous streak in him that he would not hesitate to hurl the stone marble at any one who displeased him during the game. He was distinctly the prototype of the present day school bully. He carried this peculiar streak with him into secondary school where he became a top rugby wing-three and a champion school sprinter. He was variously known as “Ruffian” and “Mongolian” as he has thick angular bushy eye brows, to boot. He was the infamous Attila, the Hun as well. We aptly gave him these monikers.
For some reasons, table tennis was another game we liked in those primary school days. There was however, only one table tennis table in the entire school. We had to come early to ‘chorp’ or stake our claim to the table. I think I contributed immensely to this task of staking claims on the table. I went to school exceptionally early, literally before day break, when most would still be sound asleep. I was so early that my exasperated mother, once, asked me in all seriousness, whether it was also my sacred duty to open the school-gates. Coming back to the more serious business of staking claims, I must say that instead of planting a flag to stake our claims, we did so by placing the thickest book we had, on the table. Invariably, the thickest book in our school bag, then, was the legendary bluish ‘General Mathematics For Malayan Schools Vol. I’, by C.V. Durrell. We needed a few of these books to form the net at the centre of the table, probably around six. These books were laid spine-up in the middle of the table. Whoever is early enough to contribute a book, earned the right to play. If six books only were needed, the 7th person automatically forfeited his change of playing. We adopted the elimination-system which we called “King”. The winner stayed on to become the king and the others tried to knock him out. The one who succeeded will be crowned the new king. If you are a competent player, you invariably stayed on as king for a considerably longer period before anyone knocked you out. If you survived the first serve delivered to you by the reigning king, you would earn the right to compete with him in a game of 3 points. We have to keep the games short so that many could play. If you win this 3-point game, you would have dethroned him! If you cannot even survive the first serve, you get floored straight away, and in the process forfeited the opportunity to play this 3-pointer!
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