Where I’ve Been

On the fourth day of June of 1763, the garrison at Fort Michilimackinac, unconscious of their impending fate, thoughtlessly lolled at the foot of the palisade and whiled away the day in watching the swaying fortunes of a game of ball which was being played by some Indians in front of the stockade. Alexander Henry, who was on the spot at the time, says that the game played by these Indians was “Baggatiway, called by the Canadians le jeu de la Crosse.”

The favorite game of ball of the North American Indians, known today, as it was deemed in 1636, by the name of “lacrosse,” was potent among them as a remedial exercise or superstitious rite to cure diseases and avert disaster; that it formed part of stately ceremonials which were intended to entertain and amuse distinguished guests; and that it was made use of as a stratagem of war, by means of which to lull the suspicions of the enemy and to gain access to their forts.

 And that’s where I was for the last few months.  Medicating myself with the game of lacrosse.  Lulling my enemies to sleep with the game I love.  Averting disaster.
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