Indian Leg Wrestle
Dad taught his three kids something he called an Indian Leg Wrestle. That may be the real name, because I don't know where it came from or where he learned it. When we took the sport to school a few years later, no one had ever done it. It's not very ladylike, but a ladylike girl can even beat a football coach, if the football coach has never done it before. Just as I reached High School age, our district combined three grade schools into a new High School. That put me in a different building from my brothers and introduced me to a whole new bunch of kids. I'm not sure just how it did start, but I ended up showing some friends to leg wrestle in gym class. Without my brothers around, there wasn't anyone who'd done it before and might be able to flip me. Not that my brothers could either!
To leg wrestle, two people lie on their backs, shoulder to shoulder. But with their bodies facing in opposite directions. I would lie on my back with my feet to the south (or any direction) My apponet lies with feet to the north (or other oposite direction) and our shoulders side by side. Then each raises the leg on the inside nearest the opponent three times to the count. On the third count, you hook ankles at the heel, or sometimes heel to knee if you are grossly mismatched, and try to flip the other person over on their stomach beside you. Some people found it to their advantage to have the opponent always on their right shoulder. I could go either way. I think a lot of my success had a lot to do with a few years of riding bareback. My legs are still strong. Dad teased me that my success had more to do with a big Butt center of gravity! (FATHERS!) OK, I might concede to a combination of the two. Whatever the reason, even my Father could only flip me about half the time, and I didn't meet anyone at school who could flip me.
The new sport bacame a sensation at the High School and the teachers started to gather at the Gym during lunch to watch. As the different classes started sorting out their own chanpions, the Gym Teacher decided to pit the best of each class against each other for a school champion. And I kept winning. When I'd beat all comers, I got cocky and asked the Gym Teacher, who was also the Basketball Coach, if he wanted to try. Everyone present started yelling at Coach Phillips to go for it. Mr. Phillips was well over 6' and I'm 5'5". They were so sure he would beat me and they wanted to see me flip over. I was pretty sure I'd win the first time. If someone has never done it before, they just couldn't get the idea or feel of it by watching. I won easily and a very surprised coach went over. He was a great sport and wanted to go again. I agreed, even though I knew my odds would go down each time, as he caught on. He flipped me on the third try, but I got him again on the fourth. Now several of the other men teachers wanted to try. Most of them only tried once and Mr. Phillips was enjoying watching them go over too much to tell them to try again. Our women teachers all wore skirts or dresses and had an easy excuse to stay out of it. Except the female Gym Teacher and she never would try. We'd tried to talk her into in gym class. One of the teachers noticed the Football Coach had been snickering at them, but hadn't stepped forward. He was a pretty arrogant man and he never believed for an instant that this girl could flip him over. The crowd started to push him forward. This man wasn't tall, solid and strong, he was built like a football player. DUH! He even arrogantly said something about being afraid of hurting me. Actually, his compact body, without knowing what to expect, went over hard and knocked the wind out of him. I'd caught him hard and fast. I don't believe I could have gotten him a second time. But, this "big" man didn't even stay around long enough to get his breath back. He stomped off, making a fool of himself, and I was very glad I wasn't in a class of his.
Years later my present husband heard about my "talent". He's 6'2" and even then he had a big belly. He had no idea of what he was getting into. It had been years since I'd done any leg wrestling and I was in my 30's. The first time I sent him over so hard he went "Whooosh" when he landed on his belly. But, I never got him over again. His belly is bigger than my "big center of gravity Butt", and his body is a lot longer. And, that is my excuse for being dethroned of my Indian Leg Wrestling Championship. (Who's a poor sport!!!)
When we were kids, we use to pull the mattress off of my bed and drag it out to the center room. Then we could run through two rooms (through an arch) and tumble on the mattress. We were not very talented gymnasts, but we had a lot of fun. Our amazing Father taught us to tumble and our amazing Mother let us do it in the house. Even when we had kids over and there was a housefull of noisy kids tumbling. Mom would just move her favorite whatsits to another room and let us go.
S had a favorite tumble. I would lie on my back with my knees raised. He would run at me, put his hands on my knees and propel himself up and over in a flip. I would be responsible for catching his shoulders and pushing him up and over to make sure he landed on his feet. He never tired of this and would wear me out, even though he was doing most of the work. We didn't need the mattress for this and I remember doing it out in our front yard. This sport finally ended when he grew too big for me. One day, in the yard, I saw my almost grown brother running at me and it occured to me that I was not in a very good position. I became convinced that sooner or later he would miss and land on top of me and I would be squished. Yup, it was time to find a safer game.
To leg wrestle, two people lie on their backs, shoulder to shoulder. But with their bodies facing in opposite directions. I would lie on my back with my feet to the south (or any direction) My apponet lies with feet to the north (or other oposite direction) and our shoulders side by side. Then each raises the leg on the inside nearest the opponent three times to the count. On the third count, you hook ankles at the heel, or sometimes heel to knee if you are grossly mismatched, and try to flip the other person over on their stomach beside you. Some people found it to their advantage to have the opponent always on their right shoulder. I could go either way. I think a lot of my success had a lot to do with a few years of riding bareback. My legs are still strong. Dad teased me that my success had more to do with a big Butt center of gravity! (FATHERS!) OK, I might concede to a combination of the two. Whatever the reason, even my Father could only flip me about half the time, and I didn't meet anyone at school who could flip me.
The new sport bacame a sensation at the High School and the teachers started to gather at the Gym during lunch to watch. As the different classes started sorting out their own chanpions, the Gym Teacher decided to pit the best of each class against each other for a school champion. And I kept winning. When I'd beat all comers, I got cocky and asked the Gym Teacher, who was also the Basketball Coach, if he wanted to try. Everyone present started yelling at Coach Phillips to go for it. Mr. Phillips was well over 6' and I'm 5'5". They were so sure he would beat me and they wanted to see me flip over. I was pretty sure I'd win the first time. If someone has never done it before, they just couldn't get the idea or feel of it by watching. I won easily and a very surprised coach went over. He was a great sport and wanted to go again. I agreed, even though I knew my odds would go down each time, as he caught on. He flipped me on the third try, but I got him again on the fourth. Now several of the other men teachers wanted to try. Most of them only tried once and Mr. Phillips was enjoying watching them go over too much to tell them to try again. Our women teachers all wore skirts or dresses and had an easy excuse to stay out of it. Except the female Gym Teacher and she never would try. We'd tried to talk her into in gym class. One of the teachers noticed the Football Coach had been snickering at them, but hadn't stepped forward. He was a pretty arrogant man and he never believed for an instant that this girl could flip him over. The crowd started to push him forward. This man wasn't tall, solid and strong, he was built like a football player. DUH! He even arrogantly said something about being afraid of hurting me. Actually, his compact body, without knowing what to expect, went over hard and knocked the wind out of him. I'd caught him hard and fast. I don't believe I could have gotten him a second time. But, this "big" man didn't even stay around long enough to get his breath back. He stomped off, making a fool of himself, and I was very glad I wasn't in a class of his.
Years later my present husband heard about my "talent". He's 6'2" and even then he had a big belly. He had no idea of what he was getting into. It had been years since I'd done any leg wrestling and I was in my 30's. The first time I sent him over so hard he went "Whooosh" when he landed on his belly. But, I never got him over again. His belly is bigger than my "big center of gravity Butt", and his body is a lot longer. And, that is my excuse for being dethroned of my Indian Leg Wrestling Championship. (Who's a poor sport!!!)
When we were kids, we use to pull the mattress off of my bed and drag it out to the center room. Then we could run through two rooms (through an arch) and tumble on the mattress. We were not very talented gymnasts, but we had a lot of fun. Our amazing Father taught us to tumble and our amazing Mother let us do it in the house. Even when we had kids over and there was a housefull of noisy kids tumbling. Mom would just move her favorite whatsits to another room and let us go.
S had a favorite tumble. I would lie on my back with my knees raised. He would run at me, put his hands on my knees and propel himself up and over in a flip. I would be responsible for catching his shoulders and pushing him up and over to make sure he landed on his feet. He never tired of this and would wear me out, even though he was doing most of the work. We didn't need the mattress for this and I remember doing it out in our front yard. This sport finally ended when he grew too big for me. One day, in the yard, I saw my almost grown brother running at me and it occured to me that I was not in a very good position. I became convinced that sooner or later he would miss and land on top of me and I would be squished. Yup, it was time to find a safer game.
posted by LeeAnn | 12:36 PM
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