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Help needed with a game of conkers.

22:40 / 16.05.05

A friend of mine has moved to Australia from the UK and and last night he started some shit by getting everyone to play conkers, and then proceeding to smash everyone's business to smithereens.

Conkers, the game, is non-existent to rare in Australia and the chestnuts are different here too, so it's not something any of us have a lot of experience with.

So, anyone out there have any tips or pointers on how to wipe the very satisfied smile off his face?

Also: Any dirty tactics that don't involve smacking him across the knuckles, which he assures us is very frowned upon.

22:58 / 16.05.05

I have a feeling you may have tapped into a rich seam with this one rakehell. A lot of erstwhile conkers players in Barbelith, I suspect.

A long time ago now, but I think soaking the chestnut in vinegar and baking it might have been effective, if highly illegal, treatments.
Oh, and apparently you're not allowed to inject your conker with botox.

Ahhh, how the world turns.

Sitting the thing on as big a knot as possible is sensible too, IIRC

00:36 / 17.05.05

Conkers is non-existant here in the South-Western US. A couple of months ago I ran across an article from a UK online newspaper on "the Conkers Olympics" or somesuch. As the article assumes a prior knowledge of the sport, I came away with the understanding that the point was to smack your (unflinching) opponent in the head with your chestnut.

And this was what British scholchildren did for fun?!?
I'm sure that you all can understand how deep my awe of the British pain threshold was.

00:44 / 17.05.05

I don't understand this thread since it's surely genetically programmed into everyone how to play the game, and in fact is almost akin to being able to swim when dunked as a baby, but anyway; How to play Conkers.

07:22 / 17.05.05

In my experience it is best to aim for the top as near the string as possible, but I always lose, so...

Molesworth says among other things that successful conkers are always shrivelled and weedy, so do not go for the big glossy sort.

07:25 / 17.05.05

Bake 'em.

Soak 'em in vinegar.

Paint small, round pebbles brown and drill a hole through 'em.

If you're in danger of losing, "accidentally" go for the knuckle.

STOATIE LIEKS CHOCOLATE MILK

11:50 / 17.05.05

Yes, vinegar and baking, or a month or so down the back of the radiator. Always attack from above, as has been said, and as as also been said have a hefty knot underneath. The reason for this is that many a champion conker (a bully 200er or whatever) has been brought low by being whacked, though still intact, right off the string and onto the floor.

Oh, and if you happen to be at school, and sit in the front row of maths class, then playing during class is not advised, as your teacher may well decide to hit you with the conker. Fact. (It happened to a friend of mine- ans I swear I was about to win the game, too).

13:08 / 17.05.05

Thank you, Lula! All this time I had labored under the misapprehension that conkers was something like checkers... or perhaps tiddlywinks...

13:17 / 17.05.05

I came away with the understanding that the point was to smack your (unflinching) opponent in the head with your chestnut.

That's not officially how it's played, but it is how every single game used to end up.

18:29 / 17.05.05

Oh, don't bake them - it weakens them. Vinegar soaking is good though. I used to think that most of the success came in the chosing where the hole for the string went though. But can't remember, after extensive tests, where was best - I think start the hole on the white part of the conker.

paranoidwriter waves hello

21:47 / 17.05.05

rakehell, thanks for starting this thread: you've just reminded me of some unfinished family business…

My Grandfather owned a conker that is legendary to my (huge) family. Known simply to us all as "The Conker", it used to hang from his Shillaly on the wall in their downstairs hallway, taunting us with every visit. In season, all the cousins (and sometimes even the uncles and aunties) would arrive at my Grandparents' house, hopeful that our latest "challenger" might accomplish the impossible, whilst secretly preying we would return home with a fist-full of empty shoelaces. Over the years we must have tried every conceivable technique to try and prepare a challenger worthy of knocking the legend off its' perch; pickling, baking, soaking in varnish, etc. But the small, black and ancient horse chestnut never even cracked. Similarly, no amount of begging or bribery succeeded in prizing the secret of its almighty strength from my Granddad. And after he left for the next realm, for nearly twenty years Nan never let on either.

As a child I imagined The Conker was imbued with magic, and half-suspected that behind the overalls and drips of paint, my Grandfather was a great deal more than a humble painter and decorator.

And so I ask myself: where is The Conker now? What became of the legend?...

Watson, pass me my deerstalker; a mystery is afoot!

21:56 / 17.05.05

It was a stone

paranoidwriter waves hello

22:07 / 17.05.05

No, it wasn't.

01:31 / 18.05.05

From here, it does sound a bit like the guy was using a stone, I have to say.

06:48 / 18.05.05

You should polish that little anecdote up, paranoidwriter, and send it off to the People's Friend.

paranoidwriter waves hello

10:30 / 18.05.05

From here, it does sound a bit like the guy was using a stone, I have to say.

Do you really think that over the years we wouldn't have thought of that? Come on, give my family some credit.

You should polish that little anecdote up, paranoidwriter, and send it off to the People's Friend

Can I smell the putrid stench of sarcasm? Is there something rotten in Denmark?

All Acting Regiment

10:50 / 18.05.05

I don't reckon it was a stone, I reckon it was a really exceptionally fucking hard conker. We have Hulk Hogan, the conker world has that conker.

11:09 / 18.05.05

Can I smell the putrid stench of sarcasm? Is there something rotten in Denmark?

Not in the slightest. Have you ever read The People's Friend?

With a strong base of captivating fiction, a dash of crafts, a sprinkling of gardening and of course a good dose of tempting recipes, The People’s Friend is the perfect ingredient to brighten any woman’s day.

To appreciate the full flavour of ‘The Friend’, it’s best read in a comfy chair with a hot cup of tea and lots of time to spare.

This is almost perfect for it, pending tidying up the spelling and grammar:

In season, all the cousins (and sometimes even the uncles and aunties) would arrive at my Grandparents' house, hopeful that our latest "challenger" might accomplish the impossible, whilst secretly preying we would return home with a fist-full of empty shoelaces. Over the years we must have tried every conceivable technique to try and prepare a challenger worthy of knocking the legend off its' perch; pickling, baking, soaking in varnish, etc. But the small, black and ancient horse chestnut never even cracked.

No sarcasm intended. Thought you were a writer, is all.

11:17 / 18.05.05

There's the paranoid bit, though.

Whisky Priestess

14:52 / 18.05.05

Come on, PW, you have a duty to share your conker story with the world. It's either that or submit a "true-life" story of running off with your Mum's best friend to Take A Break. People's Friend pay too, don't they?

paranoidwriter waves hello

17:52 / 18.05.05

Persephone is right... Sax, I'm really sorry to have assumed the worst. I've been doing manual work for weeks and (as you can probably imagine) the "crew" are a dry bunch of piss-takers. They must be affecting my world-view. Please accept my sincerest apologies, and thank you for the complement. Thanks also to Whisky Priestess

Oh, and Legba Rex, I have a sneaking suspicion you may be right...

paranoidwriter waves hello

00:21 / 03.07.05

[Bump Warning: sorry, but I felt I had to "share"]

Breaking News! Although it was a long, intriguing, and at times emotionally charged quest, (or alternatively, I remembered to phone my Mum), it gives me smug pleasure to announce that I have finally tracked down 'The Conker'! Apparently, my Dad has it stashed away inside a drawer somewhere in my parents' house.

It makes me sad to think of it lying there in the shadows, dormant, gathering dust like a once great and now all but forgotten idea. According to my Mother it's withered and frail, and she doubts it would survive the course if coerced out of retirement. Of course, I won't know for sure until I get the chance to visit, but I'm more than a little concerned about the little legend. Has The Conker lost its magic? Did its power begin to wane the moment my Grandfather left this mortal coil? Did it stop short, never to go again, when the old man died?.... Or will a walk around the park breath fresh life into its fibre and bring back its majesty? Will a loving hand help guide it back to its former glory? Is magic hereditary?

Oh, and it's definitely not a stone; thank f**k! (I have to admit, you had me a little worried for a moment.)

If you like, I'll keep you posted....

02:47 / 03.07.05

You're a good egg, PW.

Less searchable M0rd4nt

02:53 / 03.07.05

I just love the concept of this Legendary Conker and am deeply relieved to hear that it was not a stone (chiz).

07:54 / 03.07.05

It withered like a dream. But it will be strong again, we just have to believe.

paranoidwriter waves hello

10:37 / 03.07.05

Aw shucks..... Thanks comrades. I needed that.

"I believe! I BELIEVE!"