EDITOR'S NOTE: The following is a chapter from The Compleat Traveler's Guide to Middle-earth.

Sports in Middle-earth

Whether you like to mix it up or just cheer from the sidelines, Middle-earth has plenty of sporting options for the discerning visitor. Each race of sentient being has its own unique set of athletic games, many of which rival contemporary sports for nerve-tingling excitement. A word of advice, however: at times your concept of what passes for "rules" or "good sportsmanship" may be severely challenged. Remember, though you are in what will eventually become Europe, traditional ways of engagement as practiced by modern Western societies haven't been completely worked out yet. At times you may not even recognize that what you're observing is in fact sport! Nevertheless, if you keep an open mind and respect cultural differences, you're in for a ball!

What follows are summaries of the types of sports that are played in Middle-earth, organized by race. There are overlaps, of course; participants of different races are often spectators at the same event (leading to some lively crowd interactions!), and some sports are practiced by more than one race (i.e., yacht racing by Elves and Men). But each race definitely has its own way of adding to the colorful pastiche that is sports in Middle-earth!

ELVES

One could say that, of the Middle-earth races, Elves are the truest sport-lovers of all. Actually witnessing an Elf sporting event, however, is quite problematic. This is because Elves most enjoy the sport of archery--and are only too willing to make YOU their target. Men and Dwarves have learned this; Orcs have not. Feathered Orc corpses are thus sometimes the only sign that Elves have had a game. Again, let me reiterate: spectators are not encouraged, though specially-sanctioned Palantír viewings can be arranged for a price.

On the other hand, spectators need not fear to witness another Elf sport: yacht racing. The descendants of Ëarendil in particular like sailing, and willingly participate in the yearly Regatta on the coast of Belfalas. Unfortunately, while the First Born are exceptional sailors, their numbers have dwindled much in recent years, so much so that most of the entries now feature crews entirely of Men. Also, since Men are less likely to pay their respects to Ulmo, terrible drowning accidents have become more common, resulting in fewer entries; in the past what was a veritable yacht sea is now a much dicier proposition for all concerned.

DWARVES

No Dwarf will ever profess to be interested in sports; there are, they claim, more important things to do than to engage in vainglorious games when there is work to be done. But don't be fooled, there are Dwarf sports, and there is also a sizable contingent of Durin's folk who are flat-out obsessed by BETTING on sports. Indeed, some have made a living out of laying wagers with unwary travelers who, on passing through, get invited into a glittering Dwarf hall, are plied with mead, and wind up placing bets they regret later. A typical maneuver, made famous by Borin son of Skorin, is a sucker's game: the mark is lured into believing he's on a roll by letting him win a few bets (usually on Orc Ball contests), then gets nailed when he makes losing bets on lesser-known sports such as Eagle Racing or Elf Regatta. In Borin's case, his reputation eventually caught up with him, and only the most foolish rube from Rohan gets taken in completely now.

If you do plan to visit a glittering underground Dwarf palace, such as New Menegroth, and you get tired of ogling their hoards of cleverly-wrought armor, jewel-studded belts and ornamental drinking cups, go ahead and make a side trip to a betting dais. Just make sure you don't insult the proprietor's ancestors, stick to sports you know, and go easy on the mead.

Sports Played by Dwarves

Dwarves do engage in some sports, but they actively discourage spectators of non-Dwarf origin. Which is probably for the best, for their sports are of martial origin, and sometimes involve active blood-letting. Dwarves are notoriously tough, however, and will often shrug off injuries that would incapacitate a Man or Elf.

Their favorite sport has no rules, other than keeping a head count: Orc Hewing. Such contests can't be scheduled, of course, since Orcs can't be reliably expected to wander into Dwarf realms (unless part of a scheduled invasion from Mordor, of course). Nevertheless, Orc heads garnered in Orc Hewing contests are highly prized by purveyors of Orc Ball.

There is one sport that Dwarves no longer play: Oak Hewing. This is because a party of Wood-elves once tricked some Dwarves into playing a game of Oak-Hewing at Fanghorn Forest, and Oak Hewing quickly turned into a game of Stomp the Dwarves by one very disturbed Ent.

ENTS

The Ents actually have a word for sport: umhumumumhumhumhumhumbabyhumhumumummmmmmmmmmmmswing. Since this word aroused the ire of the Entwives in ages past, it is now rarely spoken, though it has occasionally been heard when Dwarf squads nearby are looking for Orcs to hew. Otherwise, Ents don't engage in sports, except for the occasional game of hacky-sack at particularly boring Ent-moots, played with the freshly-hewn head of an Orc stuffed with acorns.

MEN

Of all the races in Middle-earth, Men are most prone to spectator sport, for Dwarves are too secretive, and the Elf fan base keeps dwindling over the sea to the West. But though a Man may be a fan for a mere fifty years, he passes his love of the game on to his many offspring. And alone among the races do Men willingly part with their own lucre to watch a match.

Men of Gondor

While Men all over Middle-earth engage in various sporting contests, it is only in Gondor where they consistently come out to watch them. The most popular sport, of course, is Orc Ball. Though a number venues exist in the capital of the Southern Kingdom, the best spot to take in a match is undoubtedly Osgiliath Field, on the banks of the Anduin River. While watching the lads from stone benches carved from quarries near Mt. Mindolliun, you can hearken to vendors hawking the best Lebennin ale and fried fish delicacies brought up on ships from the fisher folk of South Ithilien. Colorful banners are the order of the day, and in the crowd you are likely to see just about anyone, from a Lost Lord of Arnor to a party of Harad incense dealers. With such a motley crowd, of course, tensions sometimes run high, particularly when the Dark Lord has sent one of his Nazgûl scouts to check out the talent.

The game of Orc Ball itself is, at first glance, deceptively simple. Unlike most ball sports, it is played in a ring-shaped, rather than a rectangular-shaped, field. The objective of the game is to advance the ball from the center of the ring to the outer part of the ring without actually crossing over the ring line. Judges determine how close to the ring line--and how long it must be held there--the ball must be in order for the holder to score.

It is this participatory element of the judges that makes Orc Ball truly unique. Ideally, in sports from our world, the umpires are expected to be impartial arbiters, impervious to the influence of biased spectators and players alike. But in Middle-earth you will find a different attitude when it comes to sports. Judges are not only expected to NOT be impartial, but the art of swaying their judgment is an integral part of the game. Usually this takes the form of threats, pronouncements of doom, or Weirs laid upon them. Some judges are known to be enchanted by Elf-song, and teams vie to bring in the finest throats from Lothlórien and Rivendell. Others can be plied with food or drink, or the hands of fair maidens (in marriages that can easily be annulled in certain South Gondor establishments). A wizard wishing to add to his purse has been known to cast a few spells, not only on the judges but on the players. Even the appearance and condition of the ball can influence a judge.

Those players who are awarded a goal bring honor to both themselves and their team. Play continues throughout the day until shadows stretch across the field, and the strange cries of fell beasts are heard by all. Don't be alarmed by these cries, even if they do seem to come from Mordor; they're normal, and no cause for unrestrained panic. At the end of the game, the player with the most goals is awarded the coveted title of Ring Lord in a touching ceremony that is not to be missed.

Finally, there is much speculation as to the matter of the origin of the sport's name. The most common explanation is that its name comes from the fact that the ball employed is the freshly-hewn head of an Orc.

Men of Rohan

Being lovers of horses, it is only natural to assume that these hardy and proud Men race their beasts, and indeed they do. The manner in which they race them, however, may surprise the modern visitor. Rather than ride them, these Men let their horses race untouched by humans as they gloriously gallop over the plains between the Entwash and the Anduin, using only their unerring homing instincts to lead them back to their masters. Spectators along the way either shout encouragement to their favorite nags, or try to confuse opponents' steeds by asking them questions about their ancestry. But no one can talk to a horse, of course, unless of course that talking horse is the famous--well, never mind.

Occasionally the Rohirrim also play a game similar to polo, though the riders don't employ mallets; for the horses themselves are the ones that actually strike the ball, which is usually the freshly-hewn head of an Orc.

Snowmen of Forochel

The Lossoth are the only community of Men who regularly engage in winter sports, though few are seen by anyone from more southern climes, for few have good reason to subject themselves to the frigid conditions to which the Lossoth have acclimated themselves; and if even if you do make the difficult journey over the Lune Mountains, you will be lucky if you don't wind up eating your shoe leather to survive.

But let's say your party experiences excellent weather and arrives at the Cape of Forochel in good shape, and the Lossoth are convinced that you are not a war party sent to punish them by the Witch-king, and you just happen to go at a time when they engage in their winter sports. In which case you will be treated to amazing sights: glittering palaces made entirely of ice, soaring into the sky; footraces on frozen lakes by Men who have developed bones in their feet that keep them from slipping; sled races in enormous sleds pulled by Northern Wolves; and a kind of rodeo played with polar bears will keep you entertained for hours. But it's all over in a single day and night, and when you awake the next morning, huddling for warmth in your modest ice-tent (DON'T call them igloos!), it will all seem like a dream; and you wonder, as you pack your possessions for the arduous journey south, what kind of mushrooms DID that guy dressed up in fancy feathers and bones and stuff give you to eat last night?

THE VALAR AND MAIAR

Though for the most part not technically residents of Middle-earth, among the Valar dwell the Lord of Sport himself, Tulkas, who has no peer as a wrestler, and his wife Nessa, who can flat out beat the pants off any Man, Elf, or Dwarf in a foot race. At one time these two occasionally showed up to compete in sporting events in Middle-earth, usually disguised as pathetic losers, just to shake up the sporting hierarchy. But the fickle crowds in Gondor could not abide the laughter of Tulkas, which interfered with their sense of solemnity during the Orc Ball finals, and when Nessa tried to reach her hubby she brought too many deer with her and they overran the playing fields. The couple were politely asked to leave, and now play in relative obscurity in Valinor. This account, at least, comes from a groundskeeper at Osgiliath Field, who was a bit tipsy with mead at the time of my interview with him, and thus may not be a reliable source of information. When I left him, in fact, he was babbling incoherently with the freshly-hewn head of an Orc.

HOBBITS

Though in stature the least of Middle-earth's sentient denizens, Hobbits can in truth be considered the progenitors of modern English sport. Indeed, numerous contemporary sports and games, including golf, croquet, and cricket, can be traced back to the playful Halflings' propensity for outdoor play. Unlike Men, they do not play for money, nor for spectators other than those who show up with vittles and drink. But what they lack in spectacle they make up in enthusiasm--and an irresistible urge to tinker with the rules.

This urge can be seen in the large variety of ways they play their favorite sport, Wickybottom. Legend has it that it is also their oldest sport, having supposedly originated shortly after the last battle of Fornost, when Hobbit bowmen returned from the North with a game that they picked up from the Dúnedain (though this is a matter of some dispute; others insist that it was invented long after the Days of Dearth, when times were once again good and young Hobbits had to find something to keep them from going crazy with boredom). There is good evidence to suggest that the original striker nets, the constantly-modified implements used to hit or catch the ball (if indeed a ball is used; some varieties of Wickybottom use dried gourds, sticks, or even small stones, though these varieties tend to be played more often by Hobbits of Stoor extraction), were originally what Hobbits call "mathoms," in this case weapons used in ancient times that were mostly gathering dust while hanging on the walls of seldom-used guest rooms in the burrows of the well-to-do Hobbits in Tuckborough and Tookbank. Such weapons were not wielded in anger, of course, though a few unfortunate mishaps necessitated changes in the striker nets, mostly having to do with dulling the blade or removing sharp edges and/or spikes, so that the game could take on a more genteel character . In the course of making such modifications, certain clever Hobbits discovered that they could improve the efficacy of both the catching and striking functions of the implements, thus leading to a constant evolution in the tools of the game, as first Tooks, then rival Brandybucks, and even Hobbits from Bree took the lead in the competition. Were it not for the need for baskets, Bree would have probably taken the lead permanently, but basketweavers from Buckland (with a little help from Bombadil himself, apparently) helped level the playing field with their ingenious "false trap" designs that unwary Bree Hobbits still have difficulty fathoming.

The game itself has taken many forms, but certain strategic elements have remained constant over the thousand-odd years of its life. Probably most important is the placement of the baskets: too low ground makes them an easy mark, whereas too high leads to discouragingly infrequent scores. The quality of the ground on which they rest is another factor, and some Hobbit teams, especially those coached by old Bratty Willowhook, have been accused of watering down the area surrounding the baskets to encourage the practice of "frogging," or sinking the baskets so low in the ground that the trap portion is exceedingly difficult to distinguish from the under portion, or vica versa. To counter this, some Bree players have been known to send their Jammies out on an early Boonthrow in an effort to wrest baskets from the Boggishbilly.

The other main strategic element is player placement. Wickybottom recognizes 113 player positions, the primary ones of which are Boggishbilly, Hotspaw, Fieldbanger, Struttish End, Clever Pully, Leg-a-dilly, Crunchpickle, Baffle Buck On, Banterwaggle, Smidgeon-on-a-curl, and Sloglark. Since only seven (or, in some cases, seventeen, or in others twelve) players can play at a time, this leads to a constant stream of decision-making on the players' parts on which positions they should take up. Since each position change necessitates its being recorded by the official Game Scribe, a good part of the contest is spent waiting, and waiting leads to chatting, and chatting leads to having a bite or a pint or two, and by then everyone's forgotten where they're supposed to be. A stranger to the Shire might indeed wonder if a game is being played at all, and leave just as a goal is about to be attempted, thus missing the most exciting part: the digging of the furrow-hole, that passage that the ball (or dried gourd, etc.) has to make before it can legally be played for a score.

Some words of advice for those who wish to take in a game of Wickybottom. Don't even try to understand the rules. If you can, sample some of Belladonna's Wild Mushroom Cups and a bowl of Old Toby. Hobbit sports may not be overly exciting, but they are decidedly civilized: if you stick it out all the way to the eventual victory celebration, you won't see the freshly-hewn head of an Orc.

TROLLS

Trolls have yet to count past the number 1; neither do they grasp the concept of the number zero. Therefore all troll games end in a 1-1 tie. However, the idea of a tie eludes them, so they invariably stay up all night arguing as to whom the winner is. Thus when the sun rises it's too late, and they turn to stone. For this reason trolls tend to avoid sports, though occasionally a pair may succumb to the temptation of playing dodgeball with--need we say it?--the freshly-hewn head of an Orc.

DRAGONS

Being solitary sorts, dragons eschew team sports altogether. They will occasionally play a competitive game of Burn the Village with each other, however, with the winner getting the loser's hoard as spoils. As a booby prize, the loser is served the barbecued, freshly-hewn head of an Orc.

BALROGS

Balrogs do not engage in sports of any kind, but they do get into heated arguments over the relative merits of their favorite champions (of whom they are the Bane, of course).

ORCS

These much-maligned beings, whose sentient status is questioned by some, do not possess the social skills necessary to participate in anything approaching fair competition. The few times that Orcs have been allowed to play Orc Ball have proven disastrous; in one case the Orc Blorb, discovering that the ball was none other than the head of his hated cousin Blarch, went berserk and smashed the ball beyond recognition; in another case a roving band of Uruk-hai, incensed that they were not considered for the contest when one of Sauron's inferior breed was, attacked the crowd and caused considerable havoc. Since then Orcs have been allowed in as spectators only, save those who participate by having given their heads for the cause. But if properly contained inside Orc Spectator Pens, and thus isolated from the more civilized crowd, they do provide an opportunity for Orc Ball venues to make considerable money, for Orcs can easily be charged higher admission, and will invariably buy and consume great quantities of food and drink if they do not slaughter each other first (in which case the loss in food and drink revenue is at least partly offset by a fresh source of Orc Balls). A word of caution: if you do find yourself sitting next to an Orc at an Orc Ball game, do not remark on how your neighbor's face resembles the ball; your comment will invariably be misconstrued one way or another.

While Orcs no longer participate in organized sports in Eriador or Gondor, there are rumors that in Mordor they do take part in cruel contests organized by the Dark Lord for the amusement of himself and the Nazgûl. That these feature unspeakably barbaric acts of hideous evil and soulless corruption need not be even be said; so horrible are these games that even the victors have been found in screes at the foot of higher cliffs in the Ephel Dúath, their bodies broken by suicidal falls, as they have taken the only way out to end the monstrous dreams engendered by the nightmarish ways they have achieved victory. Tourists, naturally, are discouraged from visiting Mordor with the intent of witnessing these games live; however, if you must, live pay-per-view Palantír broadcasts are available for the very wealthy and depraved.

IN CONCLUSION

As you can see, Middle-earth provides the prepared traveler excellent opportunities for viewing, and in some cases playing, sports. While occasionally dangerous, these games can provide first-hand the kind of thrills that can otherwise only be found in witnessing mortal combat. If you feel nauseous at your first sight of the head of a freshly-hewn Orc, take solace in the fact that nearly all first-time patrons have similar experiences, and by your third match or so you won't even notice if the ball is smiling or frowning. But remember to take in the other sports as well, in particular the Regatta and, if your constitution allows for it, Wickybottom. After all, Middle-earth is famous for its diversity of cultures, and its sports definitely reflect that.

Theophrastus Bombastus von Wimsicus
Middle-earth Adventures, Ink.


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