The men needed a break, so today they organized a game of "nogginball." Nogginball is a lot of fun, hones one's eye-hand coordination skills, builds a sense of comraderie among the participants, and is always a great morale booster.
If you've never played, the rules are fairly simple. You pick your teams and issue swords to the players. Then the whole field erupts into a giant, mass swordfight. This goes on until someone's head is severed and actually falls to the ground. At that point everyone sheathes their swords, and the lopped off head goes into play. This continues until one team or the other scores a goal.
When that happens, everyone pulls out their swords and resume fighting with them until someone again loses their head.
And so it goes until only one team has players left with their heads still attached. They win.
I myself no longer player. The cords and hoses from my dialysis machine would only get in the way. But I did letter in nogginball when I was a senior in high school. As a jock, I was quite popular with the chicks.
Now I just watch the games from the sidelines. But my favorite part is not the action on the field, but rather the cheerleaders on the sidelines. They are quite "exciting" to watch, if you know what I mean. Bouncing all around with their pom-poms, cheering their bosums out, it is truly a sight to behold.
But my favorite part is when, if look hard enough and long enough, you catch a quick glimpse of their ankles from under their burqas.