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At Play
- The University Press of Kentucky
- Chapter
- Additional Information
96 Yard At Play All I remember about playing King of the Hill on the slight slope in the front yard is that one person was king and everybody else tried to drag her down. No brains, no allowances for size or age, no fairness in numbers. Every King of the Hill was summarily toppled. The harder you fought the more likely you were to win gouges and contusions. You attained your height, trumpeted āIām King of the Hill!ā and then the dogs were on you: Paula, all long knobby bones; PJ, dense as a bowling ball; Cathy, whose blond mane might blind you as her long nails raked your back; and Susan, whose specialty was head butts under the chin. This was blood sport, this melee by the boxwoods out of which came a new king we cheered, then conquered. ...