tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918310454820522189.post2701787093975268993..comments2023-05-26T06:42:45.658-07:00Comments on Mormon Iconoclast: British BulldogEric Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17847948709234757330noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918310454820522189.post-15286752054309303952012-06-18T15:44:25.498-07:002012-06-18T15:44:25.498-07:00Ours was "Whipper Snapper." We invented...Ours was "Whipper Snapper." We invented it. Sticks or the ubiquitous "1970s huge back pocket comb" were the weapons (the "whipper snappers"). Basically, it was the "Hunger Games"...a free-for-all hunt. You killed your prey by hitting them with your whipper snapper. The harder, the better. Welts were a sign of glory. We got so good we could hit a running, diving, twisting target 30 yards away. Those combs would spin like boomerangs. Eyes? Faces? Exposed skin? Not protected...they were target areas. If you were good at causing pain then next round people were less likely to hunt you. It made perfect sense.Jeb Braninnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918310454820522189.post-69112119389882085172012-06-18T12:36:47.570-07:002012-06-18T12:36:47.570-07:00Oh, man, takes me back. We played indoors a few t...Oh, man, takes me back. We played indoors a few times, but then one of the custodians narced on Brother Mitchell, so it became an outdoor game. I never bit anyone, but I got bitten a few times. You're right, great example of peer pressure. You didn't want to be the one to wimp out. But also fun? Right?Eric Samhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17847948709234757330noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918310454820522189.post-24063377617005031382012-06-18T12:29:55.432-07:002012-06-18T12:29:55.432-07:00Probably just as well Brother Mitchell never heard...Probably just as well Brother Mitchell never heard of that one!Eric Samhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17847948709234757330noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918310454820522189.post-83959260044056862462012-06-18T12:02:02.479-07:002012-06-18T12:02:02.479-07:00Night football was our indoor scout game. Two tea...Night football was our indoor scout game. Two teams, one eraser (ball), two ends of the room. Team at either end of the room wanted the eraser at the opposite end. The eraser would be tossed towards the middle of the room. While the eraser was still in mid-air the lights would be switched off. Go.Shermhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07098953206824247173noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918310454820522189.post-61260286890395772292012-06-18T10:56:20.814-07:002012-06-18T10:56:20.814-07:00http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rqv38fP7cr0http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rqv38fP7cr0scott bronsonnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3918310454820522189.post-84842712414790626702012-06-18T10:55:40.052-07:002012-06-18T10:55:40.052-07:00Growing up in Scotland, we played British Bulldog ...Growing up in Scotland, we played British Bulldog all the time. Our PE teacher would have our all-male class play on the hardwood gym floors. Same rules applied with the three count and lifting to make someone "out." One time when I was about 7 years old, I remember giving a full-mouthed chomp to the leg of a classmate trying to lift me up off the ground. This chomp left a full, dark, purple replication of my mouth as accurate as any dentist's model. I am shocked by my unbridled violence, looking back. But I guess that's what happens in the masculine pressure cooker of BB.Marcnoreply@blogger.com