Takraw

Takraw - think of it as a kind of volleyball where you can't use your hands. Think of a volleyball as "spherical of one woven layer having 12 holes, 20 intersections. ...made of synthetic fiber or natural rattan. If it is made of rattan, it ...consist(s) of 9-11 strains. The circumference ...not ...less than 0.42 m and not more than 0.44 m (0.43 m to 0.45 m for women). The weight before play...not ...less than 170 gm and not more than 180 gm (150 gm to 160 gm for women)." Think of a team as a 'Regu', each consisting of three players...One of the three players ...at the back and ...called a 'Server (Tekong)'....The other two players ...in front, one on the left and the other on the right. The player on the left ...called a "Left Inside" and the player on the right ...called a 'Right Inside'" And the net is lower and the court smaller. And in addition to the referee there are two umpires and 6 "linesmen." Otherwise, it's pretty much identical to volleyball.

Takraw is not a new game, in origin or spirit. According to the official site, "It is recorded in the cultures of South-East Asia nations as early as in the 11th century that the game was played extensively - Takraw in Thailand, Sipa in the Philippines, Sepakraga in Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei, Ching Loong in Myanmar, Rago in Indonesia & Kator in Laos. It is even said that in one of his many trips, the merchant Marco Polo brought back to Europe a game from China, which was kicking an implement into the air and counting the number of kicks, a style resembling today's sepaktakraw game."

Today, Takraw is an international sport, played in Puerto Rico, Singapore, Argentina, Brazil, India, Japan, Switzerland, and even here in the US. It is an important sport in that it affords players the opportunity to rise to rare moments of skill and grace. It is one of only a few sports involving eye-foot coordination: soccer, the hacky sack (officially referred to as a "footbag" and a moment or two of football. But all of these sports seem mere prelude to the refinement and spectacle of eye-foot accomplishment afforded to the Takraw player.

Speak, but do not play

Given the avowed mission of Major FUN, I took it upon myself to contemplate the strategic implications of launching a vast, or at least half-vast, keynote speaker initiative. Tactically speaking, the next logical step was a visit to Google for a brief reconnoiter, or something of that reality-checking ilk. Searching for Speakers Bureaus, I almost immediately clicked my way to the relatively local Nationwide Speakers Bureau. This was a fortuitous stumbling-upon, as the speakers bureaued within were clearly some of the best and mightiest.

Looking for an appropriate category, I pointed my way to Humor, wherein I found not only such luminaries as Dennis Miller, the Groundlings and Second City, but even a personal luminary of mine, friend, protege, Emperor of Playfair, Matt Weinstein.

A feature of the website is an online, Real One video for each speaker. I watched Matt's, and my conceptual jaw dropped in admiration and personal abashment. So polished, so professional was his video, so lively and engaging his performance, so motivating and audience-participatory, that I immediately concluded that it would take me years and thousands upon thousands of actual dollars to prepare anything remotely as enticing.

I wrote Matt to inform him of my awe. Which led to a phone conversation.Which led me to a revelation which continues to startle me to this moment.

It turns out that Matt's amazing video is not bringing him much work. It further turns out that he's producing a new one to replace it. So polished, so professional, so light-heartedly enlightening a video, and yet, so far, not much work. So I ask: Why? So he explains. You know those parts of his video that are my favorite? The parts where we see glimpses of the audience at play, engaged with each other, sharing laughter, surprise, delight? The parts that ring most loudly the bell of fun? Well, it turns out that it's those very parts that his potential clients see as threatening, over-the-top, too audience involving.

Matt explained that the kind of speakers that are succeeding in this difficult marketplace are the kind that are the most entertaining and informative - meaning, the least participative. People want speakers to be shows, entertainments, not facilitations. People want actors, not interactors.

As Major FUN, I must pick my battles with great care. Apparently, this one is already lost. I think the casualty rate is a lot higher than people are ready to admit.

Game and Play Leader's Handbook: Facilitating Fun and Positive Interaction

If you look hard enough on Amazon.com, you'll find my review of Game and Play Leader's Handbook: Facilitating Fun and Positive Interaction by Bill Michaelis and John O'Connell. Today, for some as yet unexplained reason - oh, yes, I was talking with Bill on the phone the other day - I find myself once again marveling at the accomplishment contained within the covers of this unassuming publication.

Here's the review I wrote on Amazon (slightly edited, now that I have the chance):

Bill and John are personal friends of mine. I've known them since the 70s when John and Burton and I were co-leading the New Games Foundation. Bill has been teaching recreation at San Francisco State and stayed with it despite lack of funding and recognition for-just-about-ever. So anything I have to say about this book is probably suspect.

On the other hand, I REALLY like this book. In my 30 years of exploring newer games and deeper fun, I haven't found any book that could actually portray New Games leadership as comprehensively and compassionately.

It is, of course, about more than leading games. It is about leadership itself, and a startlingly revolutionary model for the kind of leadership that truly serves the people being led.

It's true that New Games are still being taught in elementary school physical education classes, in the States, Canada, and Europe. And it's a testimony to their power and value that they've survived more than 30 years after their introduction. But, for the most part, they have become a small component of a curriculum that is overwhelmingly focused more on perfomance than on play. Yes, their value is recognized, but their message has become lost. There is an art to leading a New Game. An art that is ultimately empowering and freeing and joyful. An art that is wonderfully and concisely captured in Bill and John's book. An art that, but for this book, has largely been forgotten.

In many ways, the Game and Play Leader's Handbook is a companion volume to my Well-Played Game. Where my book describes a philosophy of life based on play, John and Bill's book describes how to implement it in classroom, gym and playground.

Kids, rules and work

I found this post by Steve Cunio on the UK Playworks discussion list and felt just about compelled to get permission to share it with you, without comment, in its, more or less, entirety, which I got and am doing, as follows:

Here we have the Yes people (kids) composing new events and taking advantage of new ever changing opportunities. They do not flinch at having to make up their own rules as

- rules don't have to be agreed at board meetings,
- rules are based on a hierarchy of good ideas, not people
- rules are flexible enough for fast change
- rules keep pace with the game, the game itself shows the need for rules
- no one wants too many rules, the simpler the better
- rules are flexible enough to allow anyone to join in or leave
- rules are loosely based on already established games
- rules from a variety of games form a recipe for a new game
- lessons learnt from previous play facilitate speedier rule making
- rules are good ideas that suit most
- rules that do not really suit most are disputed, altered or dropped
- rules have their own natural lifecycle
- rules grow from being explicit to implicit next time played
- rules are rationalised and generalised for new players
- making rules is childs play based on capabilities, resources and environment
- rules are not factoral rules at all but behavioural guidelines.

I was really looking to affirm my approach to systems development. (I also administer systems at (Lime Hospital Arts) An approach that is set not to add to existing complexity but to reduce that complexity towards simplicity, ironing out a root problem irons out all problems that may have arisen from that.

Adults generally have less flexible rulesets for play, now called work(!), that do not allow for tidal change based on new inputs. Neither can the rulesets be readily altered and as such are added to exponentially and with greater exasperation.

This is where adult play fails where childsplay suceeds.

We should seek to mirror childsplay more in the work environment with less stringent rules meaning far greater flexibility for change, reappraisal of situations in current environment and the ironing out of foreseeable problems.

Stack

Stack is a strategy game you play with dice. A lot of dice. 14 for each player.

First, you decide on what color you want. Then, you spill all the dice onto the table, and smoosh them around in noisy, and gleeful anticipation. Then you take turns stacking dice (hence the name of the game), one die at a time, on any die other than your own. A stack can be up to four dice high. The die that is on top of the stack determines who gets the points. The higher the number on the top die, the higher the value of the stack.That's about all you need to know in order to play the game. Except that you can, if so moved, roll a die instead of stacking it. The rest is strategy.

And a very absorbing strategy, in deed. A stack that is three-dice-high is what you might call "attractive." Especially if it's a stack of 5s or 6s. Insofar as the next player who has a matching die can claim that stack permanently - or at least until the 15-20 minute game is over and score is calculated. Did I mention that 1s are worth 10? Then there are the two-dice stacks, which will wind up scoring for the player with the top die, unless someone puts another die on top of them, which then makes them a three-dice stack, which, as mentioned above, become dangerously attractive. As the game progresses, and there are fewer and fewer dice to play, the strategy changes accordingly.

For such a simple concept (easy enough for a 6-year-old), the game becomes remarkably deep (more than deep enough for this 61-year-old). And, because you're all playing together, with this big pile of dice, there's something about the game that makes you feel more together, as friends and family.

Stack is distributed by Talicor. The set comes with four different colors. Which means that you can have up to four different players. (Talicor offers yet another set with four more different colors. So, if you're a family of eight, you can still play together.). If you have the wherewithal to buy the deluxe $30, one-inch-dice set, go for it. The big dice add heft and a certain deliciously preparatory noisesomeness. Oh, yeah, there's even a velvitish bag for storage and transport, which you will probably do, often.

Hard Fun

Karlin Lillington's Wired article Who Says Science Can't Be Fun? describes a Media Lab event called "Hard Fun," explaining that the term came from "a small boy trying to explain the difficult pleasures of programming a Lego Mindstorms robot."

I think that the idea of "Hard Fun" may be key to understanding what the Media Lab is all about.

"It's not that play shouldn't be fun, but at its best, play is in fact a lot more. Play is really the wellspring of activity."

This is the message of Kenneth Haase, acting director of MIT's Media Lab Europe in Dublin.

In a way, it's a sad commentary on our culture that we have to justify fun in terms of anything other than itself. In another way, it's a powerful and well-grounded observation, especially coming from such a well-funded academic R&D center like the Media Lab, where it clearly and consistently pays to play...as long as something comes out of it.

Lillington goes on to quote MIT Media Lab founder and chairman Nicholas Negroponte: "As a lab, we've always looked at playing as one of the most proficient means of learning and acquiring knowledge."

As a person, I've always looked at playing as one of the most proficient means of having fun. Not to belittle learning and acquiring knowledge. They, too, often prove to be proficient means of having fun.

OK, OK. Any validation of fun and play is of great value in a culture where fun and play require validation. And the fact is that the kind of fun being had in the Media Lab has resulted in incontrovertible evidence that fun of the hard kind can be a most profitable endeavor.

"As an example," Lillington notes, "Negroponte pointed to a chair with special body sensors designed by MIT students for a magic act in Las Vegas. That technology has now been worked into about 60 percent of baby seats for cars."

Lillington also cites composer Tod Machover, who has worked with the MIT Media Lab to develop a series of innovative Music Toys. "We've lost many of the aspects of what it means to put together the concepts of 'play' and 'music.'" This is a profound and poignant observation from someone who has in fact created some wonderfully tangible testimony to the play-music connection.

I seems to me that, as a culture, we are on the brink of losing our connection to play itself. From banning free play and playground access to chronic overscheduling, we are removing ourselves further and further from our source. Machover and Haase and Negroponte, with their validation of Hard Fun, are contributing a great deal more to our society than innovative technologies. Hard Fun might prove to be the only kind of fun that our culture can readily embrace.

Thanks to CoWorker Gerrit Visser for the link.

Bonsai Potato

Apparently, all that it takes to create a new art form is a little devotion, a sense of playfulness, humor, and a community with whom to share it. Case in point: the Bonsai Potato Gallery.

Bonsai Potato? You've got to be kidding! I mean, you have this ancient, Zen-like tradition of spending, what, years of a profoundly spiritual discipline that centers on torturing a tree into miniature perfection. And sprouting a potato takes maybe eight weeks.

Which of course is the whole point. In a way, the whole thing's a joke. And yet, in another way, what really makes it funny is that people take it seriously. That's the true Zen of Potato Bonsai-ing, this dialogue between Serious and Silly.

For example, here's a paragraph from a description of the Spring 2002 Growing Competition

"Amidst a vast array of delightful taters, and a serious (and lengthy) judging process, 8-year old Ian’s potato, "Ian & Lily" managed to claim First Place, narrowly beating the wonderfully decorated and poetic potato "Samurai Spud". Ian’s potato was reminiscent of the glory days of Ireland, when one grew Bonsai Potatoes for their visible appeal and composition, and not for their culinary indulgences (starving). Ian’s vision was in itself a prime example of the dramatic artistic destiny one can quickly attain with proper inner peace."

Tongue-in-cheek, perhaps. But also spud-in-spotlight. It's a competition, after all. With prizes, even, "including a $50 gift certificate to Emery’s Garden, a Bonsai Potato T-shirt, and a Mr. Potato Head Kit." You can even purchase your own "Bonsai Potato Kit - Zen Without the Wait."

Aside from the humor, and the devotion, there's community. And here we have yet one more testimony to the power of playfulness and the Internet. Google lists almost 1500 pages referring to the Bonsai Potato. The humor, graphics and depth of the Bonsai Potato website have caught the fancy of Bloggers everywhere.

For further explication, be sure to check out the semi-instructional excerpts from the book that's included in your Bonsai Potato Kit "The Art of the Bonsai Potato Kit" or consider purchasing the book all by itself from Amazon - once it's back in stock.

The BERNIE becomes Major FUN

The Astute Few might have noted that in yesterday's review of MyCard, that which was once called The BERNIE award was referred to as the Major FUN award. Lest you think this was all some egregious error on the part of my imaginary editorial staff, I herewith reassure you.

Not that there's any distinction to be made in the significance of one reward over another. A BERNIE is a BERNIE is a BERNIE. Only now, it's a Major FUN. Because Major FUN sounds, well, more "fun," as it were, so to speak. Which is the whole point, don't you know. It's cuter. It's message, clearer. And, since the erstwhile Bernie himself, aka "me," is so deeply committed to the virtual process of embracing his personal Major FUNness, as per orders from the Oaqui, it all seems, in retrospect, inevitable that one would become the other.

This award business is a strange one. For me, it's not a business at all, actually, but rather a duty, as commanded by the Oaqui and assorted fates. I neither accept nor request payment for the award. And, oddly enough, most of the other award-granting institutions do both. I do it mainly because there are people and games that deserve the kind of recognition I can give them. Apparently, my perspective on games is still highly personal and unique. My focus is on gentler kind of fun: a fun that takes precedence over who wins or loses; a fun that doesn't divide people according to who is more skilled or fortunate, but brings people together. Also, I know how to review games. I reviewed games 30 years ago at the Games Preserve and wrote reviews for Games Magazine. I conduct more or less regular Game Tastings where I and the fortunate few actually play every game under consideration.

To date, I've never written a negative review. I don't think it's worth my readers' time. And, my brand of fun is, sadly, still so unique that it would be unfair of me, don't you know, to critique a game like, for example, Monopoly, for being too competitive.

MyCard

It's a small step for gameplayingkind, but a giant step for a game company. No, make that a giant step for gameplayingkind as well.

Major FUN-Award-winning Out of the Box Publishing, makers of the Major FUN-Award-winning card game Apples to Apples, has launched a product/service allowing players to extend their Apples-to-Apples game system by creating their own, customized cards. Now, we're not talking about offering some blank cards that people can write on, but rather an online service that allows you to create cards that look and feel almost exactly like the "official," manufacturer-approved cards.

This is close to unprecedented in field of commercial gaming. Bordering on capitalistic blasphemy. Giving players the tools to alter and personalize a game is almost like telling people that they know enough to make a game better, all by themselves, without the vasty expertise of professional game designers. Close to unprecedented, because the game already includes a few blank cards that players can write on or make up on the fly. Bordering, because in order to take full advantage of the opportunity, you will need to spend another $6.00 to get the five sheets of eight-per-page, pre-printed, micro-perforated, laser- or inkjet-printer-compatible cards.

This Customizable Cards concept is not just precedent-setting, more importantly, it's fun. It's fun to think up cards that include family members and friends, neighbors and coworkers, local politicians and personal nemeses. It's even more fun when you see the expression on people's faces when they first discover themselves literally part of the game. Naturally, you can include anyone and anything you can imagine: grandma's spaghetti, dad's first car, the neighbor's noisy dog. If you're playing for more than fun - say, you're a therapist or educator - you can create cards that evoke or provoke, test or exercise. And, if you're so minded, preparing for a game with like-minded so-and-sos, you can include the unmentionable.

The online tool works well, is easy to understand, and provides access to extensive libraries of cards that other users, and the manufacturers themselves, have created. If you haven't bought Apples to Apples yet, the MyCard concept alone should prove incentive enough.

As Major Fun, I find Out-of-the-Box's Customizable Cards to be a significant victory for us all.

Invoking The Playful Spirit In Training

I was Googling for "Playful Spirit" and serendipped my way to an article by Leslie Brunker, called "Invoking the Playful Spirit in Training."

Apparently, Ms. Brunker teaches training and presentation skills to coaches and trainers. I, also, have been very interested in this aspect of the business world, where the sense of theater is very much alive. Sadly, despite all the theatrics of training room, the sense of playfulness remains a radical concept. Which is what drew me so much to this article.

Ms. Brunker writes: "As adults we have come to think of learning as hard, serious, laborious, and often painful. From that framework it’s a real stretch to accept that people not only can learn from play, but actually tend to learn better through play."

The observation that people learn better through play is pivotal. Though she doesn't have any research to substantiate this claim, she does back it up with her own first-hand observations as a swimming teacher: "...my approach to teaching people how to swim was that I first got people safe in the environment. When people were so distracted by fear how could I teach them survival skills? What I did was to override their distraction with another distraction. Play!"

She, like I, also encountered people who were looking for fun and games and good jokes so that they could spice up their training. She comments: "...fun and play are not what we make happen, but more what we allow to happen. We allow it through invoking the playful spirit, both in ourselves and in our participants." A profound distinction that: not what we make happen, but what we allow to happen.

So, you ask, how do we do "allow" the playful spirit into training? "To invoke the playful spirit in training we must remember to first pay attention to the safety of the learners in this environment. At the same time we must notice the common bond we all have in being human. Then challenge ourselves, moment to moment, to accept the absurdities of our perspectives and play with the magic that comes from taking ourselves a little more lightly."