I understand you just had one of those annual events which change the history of your nation and put every citizen into a great excitement. I also understand that the following is something like:
“When they meet there is neither comparing of numbers, or matching of men; but a silver ball is cast up and that company which can catch, and carry it by force or sleight to the place assigned, gaineth the ball and victory. The Hurtlers take their next way over hills, dales, hedges, ditches, yea, and through bushes, briars, mires, plashes and river whatsoever: so as you shall sometimes see 20 or 30 lie tugging together in the water, scrambling and scratching for the ball. A play both rude and rough. The ball in this play may be compared to an infernal spirit, for whosoever catcheth it, fareth straighways like a mad man, struggling and fighting with those that go about to hold him. You shall see them retiring home as from a pitched battle, with bloody pates, bones broken and out of joint, and such bruises as serve to shorten their days; yet all is good play, and never Attorney or Coroner troubled.”
They did that sort of thing in Cornwall at the beginning of the 17th century. There’s nothing new under the sun.