It's Buzkashi Fever! Catch It, Baybee!!

Steve: Once I was stationed at our Embassy in Manila as legal advisor. In the diplomatic community were people who had lived in Afghanistan. Since 11 Sept, those friends have e-mailed me reliving some of their experiences in that war-torn country. Here is a recent message speaking of the Afghans national sport. Thought you might be interested as I heard you talk about recently on the "Sports Reporters"


Where the sport of BUZ KASHI came from, I don't know. But it is interesting.

THE PLAYERS: number ten to twelve on each team. They wear an assortment of heavy clothes covered with a long leather coat that still has the fur attached. The fur is worn on the inside. Their hats are also made of fur. This excessive coverage is needed for protection, and they will need protection.

THE EQUIPMENT: is a short raw hide whip which is usually held between their teeth when not in use to slash out at other players and their horses. It is a vicious weapon that will slice the skin open as easily as a scalpel.

THE HORSES: are enormous, not only in height but in bulk. These powerful beasts have been trained to attack, bite, kick, push other attackers out of the way and, above all, to STOP FOR NOTHING. Normally, a horse will not run into a crowd of people or trample over anyone on the ground. (They are well aware how susceptible their legs are to breaking.) Not so the buz kashi horse. If you see one running your way, I suggest you get out of its path. You are no more than a blade of grass to him.

THE FIELD: is a series of three circles in a row, each approximately 5 to 6 feet in diameter. The 1st circle, in the middle, is the starting point where the referee drops the ball and the players try to pick it up - similar to a rugby scrimmage. Circle #2 belongs to the blue team; #3 to the red team. The idea is to take the ball, ride a quarter of a mile away where a large pole has been placed, go around the pole, ride back and drop the ball in your circle. If you drop the ball in your opponents circle, you only get one point. Your own circle will earn you three points. Play continues until the ball falls to pieces.

THE BALL: is a large goat or a small calf. Before each game a great ceremony of killing the animal takes place. The head and all four hoofs are then removed, only the tail remains on the carcass. Naturally, the flowing blood makes the ball a bit sticky, slick and hard to handle. If it is found that the ball does not weigh (I heard the number 80 pounds one day, but don't quote me), then water is added to make it the proper weight.

THE RULES: are flimsy. No stabbing or shooting is allowed. Other than that, have fun.
Believe it or not, I loved to watch the game - this strange, brutal ancestor of polo. We had a friend who was a pilot, and on occasion we would fly up to Kunduz where there were actually cement bleachers where one could watch the play in relative safety - although there were times the ball carrier would end up in the middle of the bleachers with 23 of his whip-wheeling friends close on his heels.
You see, there are no boundaries to the game. Because of this, there are times when the players completely disappear. I have known them to be gone for over an hour as they romped over the hills, cruised down the main street of town - totally destroying shops and their wares - trampled a poor farmer's crop, hurricaned an innocent bystander's house, and desolated an area the size of Maumee, Ohio. At that time, we got out our picnic baskets and pitchers of martinis and waited.
Now, you would expect that after the game we would find hordes of angry shopkeepers, home owners and farmers. Such was not the case. "Wow!" they would shout. "That must of been a great game. Who won?"

I said in the last letter that I never saw the game without a death. Well, I lied. There were times when no one was killed. It was rare, but it happened. The players were safe. They may break a few bones and have their faces torn to pieces with whip-lash, but that was easily repaired. It was the spectators who crowded the field to see the action that were at risk, plus the horses. At the king's birthday bash one year, no less than thirty people who were standing in the wrong place went off to the hospital (and the morgue).
The best game of all was apparently held up near Herat. I have only second hand knowledge of this, but the person who saw it is quite reliable. The teams, officially, can have as many players as show-up. On this day, near Herat, over 100 men on horseback arrived, whips in hand, dressed in fur and ready for action. At this time, I am told, the rules change. Three zeros are drawn on the ground, the men take sides, but instead of placing a pole for them to go around, the horsemen themselves become a circle. In order to score, the rider with the ball, which he has lifted from the ground or stolen from another rider and placed firmly between his leg and the horse, must now break through the circle of the opposition, then break through again to reach his goal. The horse knows when he carries the ball or when he must defend. He becomes a Sherman tank with teeth. It must have been something to see.

It was relatively easy to get a game going. All you had to do was buy a goat. The biggest drawback for the players was getting enough money to buy the ball. Their motto was,"It's better to come home stained with blood than safe and sound as a coward."

Tom Geraci