“went up nigs. mal was there. had good fun playing splits”
I believe this was the first time I ever met Mal?
Or Malc as I much later in life got to know him as.
Back in 1972 I don’t think we really cared for one another that much – he was a year older than me and viewed me as immature (which I was, to be honest), whilst I thought he boasted too much – but when we were in our 30’s, he became a very good friend indeed, even officiating as my Best Man when I married the gorgeous Miss L in 1998.
Splits was a peculiarly dangerous teenage “boy’s game” played with a knife. You initially stood with your feet together facing your opponent about 3 feet away. He would then throw the knife to a point roughly 12″ away from one of your feet. If the knife stuck in the ground, you had to stretch one of your feet to that point. If it failed to spear the ground, his turn was forfeited and it was your turn. Basically, the name of the game was to get a succession of hits in the ground which forced your opponent to do the splits.
Ah, there’s nothing like the danger of having one of your feet ripped open by a knife is there?
Thankfully, I don’t believe there were any injuries. I have just counted my toes and I certainly have all nine of mine.