VI—LOSEMANSHIP
“…For the glory of the gamesman who’s a loseman in the game.”
THE READER WHO has thoroughly absorbed the first four chapters will know something of the fundamentals. He will be prepared, I believe, now, to take that little extra step which will put him on the way to being a gamesman. And he will realise that he cannot comprehend the thing itself, unless he knows how to turn the tide of defeat, and, with alertness and courage, with humour and goodwill, learn to play for the fun and glory of the gamesplay.
Straight now to the underlying principle of winning the losing game. What is the chief danger from the opponent who is getting the better of you? Over and above the advantage in score comes the fact that he is in the winning vein. He is playing at his best. Yet this is but one end of a balance. It is your job to turn the winning vein into a losing streak.
The Primary Hamper.
There is only one rule: BREAK THE FLOW. This act—for it must be thought of as a positive action, dynamic not static—may bear directly on the game itself (Primary Hamper) or the net may be cast wider, in a direction apparently far removed from the main target, in an attempt to entangle the character, or even to bring forces to bear from your knowledge of the private life and intimate circumstances of your opponent’s everyday existence (Secondary Hamper).
To take the simplest example of a Primary, let us begin with an illustration from golf (the “games-game of gamesgames”).
This is the rule.
Rule I:{6} Conscious Flow Is Broken Flow. To break the flow of the golfer who is three up at the turn, select a moment during the playing of the tenth in the following way. This moment must be prepared for by not less than three suggestions that he is “playing well”, “hitting the ball grandly”, etc., made at, say, the second, fifth and ninth holes. Then as opponent walks up to play his shot from fairway, speak as follows:
GAMESMAN: “I believe I know what it is.”
LAYMAN: “What do you mean?”
GAMESMAN: “I believe I know what you’re doing.”
LAYMAN: “What?”
GAMESMAN: “Yes. Why you’re hitting them. Straight left arm at the moment of impact.”
LAYMAN (pleased): “I know what you mean. Oh, God, yes! If the left arm isn’t coming down straight like a flail_____”
GAMESMAN: “Rather.”
LAYMAN: “Like a whip——”
GAMESMAN: “It’s centrifugal force.”
LAYMAN: “Well, I don’t know. Yes, I suppose it is. But if there’s the least suggestion of—of——”
GAMESMAN: “A crooked elbow—(L. is framing up to play his shot). Half a sec. Do you mind if I come round to this side of you? I want to see you play that shot…(L. hits it)…Beauty. (Pause).”
LAYMAN: “Good Lord, yes! You’ve got to have a straight left arm.”
GAMESMAN: “Yes. And even that one wasn’t as clean as some of the shots you’ve been hitting.…”
LAYMAN (pleased): “Wasn’t it? (Doubtful). Wasn’t it? (He begins to think about it).”
There is nothing rigid about the last few lines of this dialogue, which are capable of some modification. But the shape—Praise-Dissection-Discussion-Doubt—is the same for all shots and for all games. I often think the possibilities of this gambit alone prove the superiority of games to sports, such as, for instance, rowing, where self-conscious analysis of the stroke can be of actual benefit to the stroke maker.
Potter’s Improvement on the Primitive Hamper.
The superiority of Primary Hamper over Primitive Hamper needs no elaboration. But it is worth remembering that some of the earliest tentative ploys in what Toynbee calls, in an amusing essay, the Palæogamesman period, were directed to this essential breaking of the flow. They consisted of such naive devices as tying up a shoe-lace in a prolonged manner, after the opponent at squash or lawn tennis had served two or three aces running; the extended noseblow, with subsequent mopping up not only of the nose and surrounding surfaces, but of imaginary sweat from the forehead and neck as well; leaving your driver on the tee and going back for it, etc., etc.
My own name has been associated—against my will{7}—with an attempt to bring the Primitive Hamper up to date. The essence of the modern approach is the making of the pause as if for the sake of your opponent’s game. E.g., at lawn tennis, opponent haying won six consecutive points.:
GAMESMAN (calling): “Wait a minute.”
OPPONENT: “What’s wrong?”
GAMESMAN (turning to look at a child walking slowly along a path a hundred yards behind the court. Then turning back): “Those damn kids.”
OPPONENT: “Where?”
GAMESMAN: “Walking across your line of sight.”
OPPONENT: “What?”
G...