Footbag Tales to Tell
Footbag Humor
What's Your Footbag Loss Story??
I lost my footbag as a matter of National Security. In January of
1994 the President, Bill Clinton, came to visit our school. Weeks before
he was scheduled to arrive, my friend and I had formed a small circle in
the gym; and promtly kicked my hack on the rafters, gone forever, we
thought. But a few days later, the advance crew of Secret Service men came,
and told the school that the gym would have to be cleaned, including taking
everything off the rafters, so that no bombs or terrorists would pose a
threat. Apparently, the biggest threat our gym posed was two volleyballs, a
badmiton birdie, and MY HACKEY SACK. Sure enough, as quickly as they had
come, the Secret Service bagged up my hack, donned their sunglasses and
left. I'm pretty sure that it is now located in either a large warehouse in
the Pentagon, or in Chelsea's backpack.
--Dave Armstrong--
A big wave came up when I was sitting on the beach in San Francisco and
I jumped up leaving my brand new, blue and white facile Juice behind,
the wave swallowed it... I never saw it again.
--Kenny Shults, Footbag Pro--
This event took place back when footbag was still hacky sack and
commercially-made ones were hard to find. I transferred to the University of
Northern Colorado in 1978 and took my one and only Official Hacky Sack Footbag
with me. It was the only one in town, and perhaps the only one in the state
of Colorado. One Saturday night, we were playing in the student lounge when
the footbag got kicked into a pool table's corner pocket. The footbag fell
through the slots and into the dead space in the corner. We tried everything
to retrieve it, including skinny arms, and chopsticks, but the footbag
remained out of reach. I had to wait till Monday to call the vending company
that owned the table and talk them into sending someone to open up the table
and save my hacky sack. They finally agreed to send someone out. When that
person came, he opened up the table successfully, but wasn't sure what he was
to retrieve. Fortunately, an honest person who was playing with us that
fateful night happened by and located the footbag. He returned it to me that
night, and we were able to enjoy many happy kicks after that.
Another time, we were getting ready to launch a boat so we could go
waterskiing, and we were kicking near the boat launch. Someone in the circle
hit a wild kick, and we watched my footbag sail into a boat being trailered
away from the lake. The entire circle went running and screaming after the
boat, and were able to stop the truck and distract the driver while someone
climbed in and located the footbag.
Fortunately, both these stories have happy endings. It is a great tragedy to
lose a footbag forever.
--Constance Constable--
Bullies are mean. I had a pretty old juice that I was still using, but it was almost time to put the bag up on my trophy shelf with all of my other old retired footbags. Then I took the bag to class with me one day. I was kicking the last little bit out of the bag when a big guy (must of been a linebacker or something) came up, grabbed my bag mid-kick, and launched it 200 feet above on the roof of my school, never to be seen again. At least now it's retired.
--Pat Holder--
What's your story?? Write us at NukPruuf@aol.com or at mulligan@misslink.net
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