RED ROVER

No, my friends. This is not a dog blog. This is about my all-time favorite grade school recess activity, the sometimes bloody and always gutsy Red Rover! Long ago, I had the energy of a power plant. I’d bail out of swings, mastered double-Dutch with the jump rope, and was the reckless softball catcher who once connected with a swinging bat that dislodged a molar. But, nothing, and I mean nothing, compared to playing Red Rover.

For those of you whose memories have forgotten the logistics, or for the unfortunate uninitiated, Red Rover consists of two horizontal lines of rabid children facing each other, maybe 100 feet apart or so, each team locking hands into what they hope will be an invincible chain. It looks similar to the face-off we saw in the movie Braveheart, except without the war paint, lethal weapons, and kilt lifting.

“Red Rover, Red Rover, send (name of kid) right over!” one line shouts at the other after discussing who to pick.

The challenge is on. The “chosen one” runs at the other team’s line, trying to bust through the hand-holding chain. It is, of course, always best to choose what is expected to be the weakest link in order to bust on through, full force. If unsuccessful, the runner boomerangs backwards and remains on the challengers’ team. Break the chain and a “prisoner” is selected to go back over to the winner’s side. The challenging goes back and forth, until there is just one side left. No “clothes lining” is allowed, but it can still get pretty vicious, which I suppose is part of the appeal of the game.

At Mound School, we usually didn’t finish the game at the end of a single recess…it could go on and on all week. When we were in tournament mode, the entire three upper grades would join together. Only a few not-so-daring stragglers would sit on the sandstone wall and watch, along with horrified teachers, intent on keeping their distance. The rest of us were adrenaline-charged and determined to hold tightly to our chain or to blast through the barrier of arms.

I was always eager to be one of those called “over” to the other team. I’d run at full speed, cross my arms in front of my chest right before impact, and, more often than not, break through the chain. Bam!! My body propels into the air for a victory leap! Teammates clap and cheer my stunning performance! The tomboy reputation remains alive--at least until the next recess! What a rousing Red Rover rush!!

Hmmmm. I wonder if I could round up about 59 other hyped up over-the-hillers for a not-so-instant replay.