A Greased What?

[a memory evoked by Sunday Scribblings]

I figure most Americans have heard of a "greased pig" contest, even if they haven't seen one (and fewer have participated). Having grown up in a part of the country where lots of hogs are raised, I did see a number of greased pig events. For those who have never had the honor, allow me to describe. A young pig is, yes, greased up and set loose in an enclosed area. A number of contestants, usually also young, enter the enclosed area and the one who manages to catch and hold onto the slippery beast wins. It sounds simple enough, but holding on is so much harder than you can imagine.

I never tried it my self. I did, however, participate in a game that is even more rare.

As a teenager, I worked at a small summer camp. One summer the camp moved to a site that we had never used before. The counselors, junior counselors, and counselors-in-training (CITs) arrived a couple of days early for introductions and to set up cabins, to unpack materials and acquaint ourselves with the new-to-us facilities before the campers arrived.

Unlike the previous camp that had a lake to swim in, this one had a pool. We were, unfortunately, the first group to use it that year. The pool was a mess. You couldn't see the bottom, even in the shallow end. Needless to say, we could not let anyone swim in the pool in that condition, it would not have been safe.

A number of us spent a lot of time mucking out the pool during the first few days. We pulled out more leaves than you can imagine, we made sure the filters were kept clean, and we ran the pump 24 hours a day. Eventually, we started to see progress. We kept using the pool vacuum and skimmer, and finally we could see the bottom in not only the shallow end, but also the deep end.

The counselors-in-training, those of us who were 13 and 14 years old, had put in a lot of hours toward making the pool usable. The camp director arranged a treat. We were to be the first to use the pool. We'd have a pool party one evening, with a cook-out and a promise of something special. We were very excited.

Released from our duties helping out with the younger campers, we got into our swimsuits, threw t-shirts over them, and headed to the pool that evening. While one of the supervising counselors fired up the grill, the "surprise" of the evening was announced. We were to have a greased watermelon.

A what? I'd never heard of a greased watermelon.

It turns out that it was a game. It is part "greased pig" (see above), part water polo, and part rugby. We first divided the CITs into two groups: those who wanted to take part in the insanity, and those who were either too timid or too smart. I was part of the first group and we sorted ourselves into two teams. I think there were about 5 or 6 on a side.

Into the deep end of the pool went both teams. Someone had been busy rubbing shortening over the surface of a large watermelon. It then joined us floating in the deep end. The goal of the game was for to get the greased watermelon to our "goal" on one side of the pool, while trying to stop the other team from doing the same.

Cue the chaos.

It was a blast, but it was very, very, very, very tiring. And in the effort to stay afloat, one has to kick. When we all converged on the watermelon, we unfortunately kicked each other as much as the water. And although the watermelon couldn't wiggle the way a pig can, it also had no appendages to get a grip on. It was just big and round. And very, very slippery.

I don't remember much about the game other than that it was a lot of fun. I think one team eventually scored, but it didn't matter which one. We were ravenous by then and happy to call it quits.

A great time was had by all. And there was another, unadulterated watermelon that had been held in reserve. It made a delicious dessert.