Sporting gear:
Donut holes, bull horn, golf club, large rubber ball, high-bounce balls, Sean Mahan, tennis balls, eyeball whoopie cushion, rubber chicken, slinky, dilkhush goli, sticky labels and pen, masks, blindfold, earmuffs, jaw harps, kazoos, karate figurine, capes, eyepatch

Player commentary:


Herbie Hatman:
Dear Reader,

Thank you for taking the time to enjoy the following praxis. I feel confident that you will enjoy it as much as we all have.

I trust that the devout players of sf0 will be able to discern the true moral fiber which ran deep throughout our lovely afternoon at the park.

Each Calvinball player was made to confront their strengths and weaknesses. This game was filled not only with highly intellectual challenges but also by extremely exerting tests of ones brute physicality.
So I urge you to read on and enjoy the quips and qous of our fellow players.

Oh, and last but certainly not least. I won.

Best Regards,
Herbie Hatman

Queen Bex, The Man:

I liked this game: I was a bossy child in elementary school. Those skills came in handy here.

Some rules I made:
* "It" is the person who you have to climb on top of.


* If you are holding the rubber chicken, you have the power to make labels.

* If I tag you, you may only say the words "yes," "dude," and "motherfucker." ("What's your mom's name, Vixen?" "Motherfucker!")
* If any part of you touches the asphalt you must shout "down with hills!" (a few uppies went to great lengths to avoid this. JTony scooted the whole way on his jacket. A few others gave each other piggyback rides.)
* "You have all been afflicted with cross-eyedness. But if you eat this bizarre and mysterious food item, you will be cured."
* When I whistle, you have to jump and strike a pose.

And my personal favorites:
* If I touch the ground, everyone is losing. (I got carried around for about a half an hour, it was wonderful!

* YellowBear and I are the Queens of SFØ, and everyone must bow down and pay us homage or else they lose. They actually did it. It was amazing. You all may be winners, but I am the Queen of SFØ! A random child in the park wanted to join them as they bowed down to us. I am maddened with my power!


Some of my favorite moments:
* Loki ran up to me and I said "Loki, you're the ball." Without a moment's pause, he did curled up and became the ball.

* Fizzbang called from Pensylvania(?) and gave us some rules. Lank called from L.A. We called Megabee, Stu, and The Bandit, leaving them messages informing them that they were "it."

* At one point I was labeled as The Man. (Surprizingly, no one Stuck It To Me after that). I was given three "conservative soldier" labels and made my armies suppress the Revolution. I made a Spin Doctor, who turned the Revolution in my favor (by spinning him around in circles). Then the Revolution belonged to The Man and was therefor no longer Revolutionary. Me and my Hegemony will do it again, if it must be so.

* A group of random strangers were engaged in a small scale pie fight at the park, inspired by our earlier one. Amazing to realize what you can spawn.

And I would like to apologize to Ben for any damage his nipples or ego may have incurred. You should never have gone to Fulsome Street Fair with me, buddy.

YellowBear:


I immediately decided to make the rule that ALL rules were inverted while touching YellowBear. This provided a convenient option for any people (mostly myself) that might not have wanted to be running or jumping around to much but still wanted to play. This also conveniently meant that any time I lost the game, I actually won. HOORAY FOR CALVINBALL!! (oh and I spent a lot of time taking pretty pictures, which is why i'm not in most of them)
Loki:

Calvinball was a blast. For reasons unknown, I found myself filling the unusual role of enthusiastic sportsman. I make it a habit of never willingly participating in multi-player sports, much less enjoying them. But Calvinball is something special, at least when played with an awesome crew like this. It was also great to meet a number of players, both old and new, for the first time.

The game began when Herbie, perfectly attired with bullhorn at the ready, established a field line in donut holes and commanded us to obtain an object from a stranger in order to qualify to play. A motorcycle fuse won great admiration from all. After that there were a couple false starts and a bit of confusion (as well as a shocking display of no-hands shared donut consumption) before we really got into the swing of things and built up a suitable array of rules.


There were plenty of highlights. One of my favorites happened early on, when Herbie and I executed a flawless mid air spontaneous donut-hole pick up, pass, and swallow maneuver while in hot pursuit during rubber chicken tag. I doubt anyone else noticed it, but it sure made me happy.

One of my first attempts at rule creation - "try to touch LowTeck, without making use of your legs" - left me thoroughly muddied and grass stained, and therefore free to spend the rest of the day rolling around in the dirt without hesitation.

The sticky tags were a huge success, and lead to plenty of great ideas. Originally only the holder of the rubber chicken was allowed to label things, but that rule was relaxed late in the game. Labels were used to give players useful in-game properties, eg. "safe zone," to afflict them with handicaps, and for ornamental purposes. Sean, ambushed while innocently climbing a tree and labeled "it," took his revenge by turning us into an "original," "copy," and "simulacrum." I had the great misfortune to be the simulacrum when a rule cursed the original with blindness, and was forced to take a trust-walk all the way to YellowBear to regain my vision. (Those leading me - Jtony and The Vixen, I think - chose to abuse my trust by forcing me to shout "up with hills."

Tag, of one form or another, seemed the most natural sort of game. There were many brief "I've got the [object]" and "he's got the [object]" sessions. We also had a few head-to-head competitions: speed cigarette smoking, and rubber chicken head-launching. And, there were countless random rules enacted throughout the day. Among my favorites are, "if you cross this line you have to spin in circles until everyone tells you to stop," "march to the statue / now shamble back to the starting point," and "everyone not playing a musical instrument must hop on one foot." Bex, in particular, seems to have a natural talent for Calvinball rule creation.

Toward the end we had a bracing game of try to hit the big ball with the little balls while someone tries to keep it from being hit, kowtowed to the Queens of SF0 (not to be confused with the Queen of Austria or the Queen of Norway) and left the park in pursuit of less athletic recreational activities.


The Vixen:

I was tagged "General Store" and thus declared a march. It was glorious and victorious. Other than that, I simply floated around and enjoyed observing the obstacle playing out before me. I was honestly rather pooped from hosting an epic tea party preceding the game, so it was rather nice to sit back and merely congregate with a crowd of amazing, down to earth people.

I'm so happy I got to finally meet some previously topographically separated players! The Brentwood boys were a delightful bunch and it was a honor to be in the presence of Conor Pot Pie. And his moustache. It was also great, as usual, to reunite with the more familiar players. I think the whole group got on quite smashingly. Can't wait for the next event (and tea party)!

Conor Pot Pie:
I came, I saw, I kicked some butt. Have been in seclusion lately, but the Calvinball event drew me out. It was evident that my medical skills were needed and I dispersed some prescriptions during play. Also, I revived some stricken comrades with my elixir. Always good to keep elixir on hand, especially when going into a Calvinball situation. There was bowling. There was protesting. There was chasing, juggling, throwing, boxing, gluing, naming, and chicken propulsion. Not all at once. At one point, I realized that I needed to relieve the royal bladder and made off for the public restroom. While I waited in line outside, a very young girl addressed me. She was waiting for something with her father. She said, "what are you wearing?" I replied "this is my Calvinball uniform." She grinned. "You're silly." "I suppose." That was pretty much the highlight right there. Then, when I was in the bathroom, she waltzed right in (the door is propped wide open,) her father calling after her "don't go in there!" and inquired with her brother as to why he was taking so long. Future front-pager, I believe.

Also, I met Pony. I think she won Calvinball.

---

anna one says:
I arrived fashionably late to the Calvinball festivities. En route, I received a call from Fizzbang, who left a message notifying me that I was "it"- which I suppose must have been true. Upon arrival, I was immediately mobbed by all and sundry, because newcomers needed humping. However, I am the proud owner of a pair of Magic Boots, which saved me from ultimate humping-humiliation.

Soon thereafter, I challenged the assembled players to a cigarette smoking competition. Much debate was had over which type of cigarettes should be regulation, and a compromise was made- a line drawn on my extra-long non-filter cigarettes was drawn, and competition began. I placed second, felt woozy and was dubbed the Queen of Austria. The Queen of Austria (at that time) was the keeper of the rubber chicken, which gave the holder the power to write rules on labels, and label others. Having already been emblazoned with the label reading "A winner is you!" I wrote out "All losers are winners" and placed it on the nearest losing player, although why he was losing is beyond my comprehension.

Much of the game from that point on is a haze of nicotine-imbued heart-racing blur, but I do recall that a revolution against the Man was organized, and I gleefully joined the rebellion. Lowteck was originally named "The Man" but it was discovered that he'd already joined the revolution to defeat The Man, and so Our Hero was finally dubbed the Man. Soon thereafter a nearby party, which had been sitting below a Elephant pinata began to beat the poor animal senseless, and a ridiculous protest was organized to stop this animal cruelty.

Having already had my fill of ridiculous protests, I remained back and photographed the protesters, while participating in a 'when I whistle, everybody jumps' game with The Man, who clearly hadn't been defeated. It was announced (by The Man) that anyone whom she touched must only use the words "Dude" "Motherfucker" and [...something else] for three minutes. Anyone who used the word "Like" was forced to go visit the Doctor for a prescription. I immediately asked, "Like, who's the Doctor?" and was sent to visit Conor for my remedy.

While the doctor wrote out my prescription and filled it for me, the cruel pinata party finally beat the poor Elephant's head off it's body, allowing the noose which had strung it up to fly free. I was thrown a TootsieRoll for my harrowing experience. Around this point, Lank called from Los Angeles and was quickly dubbed the King of France, on my phone, because... well, that's where he was physically, of course. He was instructed to call the other players and hand out rules/requirements/etc. which he did, in style.

Returning to the rest of the gang, a human-bowling game began, in which Conor bowled the human-ball, Loki at an assembled group of 'pins', of which I was a member. The first throw was a gutterball, but managed to knock over a couple of pins. The second throw (see fantastic animated gif) did in fact knock me over, as well as the majority of the assembled pins.

By now, the sun had set, and it was starting to get a bit nippy. Our game bowling-ball, Loki, somehow became glue, while Ben was made of rubber. Somehow I became stuck to the side of Loki, and soon found myself in the middle of a giant glue-ball. (See attached photo of the top of the Vixen's head, as proof of gluey-ness.) Conor grabbed up the big red rubber ball, and chased around a stranger's dog, while the rest of us made plans for post-Calvinball dinner. Much celebrating was had... late... late into the night.
The End.

---

The Actor: Speznut and Sam M and I arrived a little later at the park, confused. Having never met any other players, we had no idea which group of people in this huge park we were meeting. After a few minutes of searching, we saw Bex in her cape, and we walked up to the group. "SF-zero?" "Yea!"
After that it was a lot of ridiculous fun having, meeting people, nicotine-ing, ball throwing, elephant protesting, running, labeling, human pyramid-ing, and general enjoyment. It was a lot of fun to finally meet everyone! We're most certainly planning on making more events in the city. It was more than worth the drive out to the city. Also had Ethiopian food for the first time in the post-Calvinball dinner, and proved that having facial hair can prevent you from getting carded! I think my favorite part of hte night was trying ot organize a revolutionary war, confusing people by making someone Enjolras and giving him labels to make an army, and making a conservative army of government fascists and setting them to battle. It was interesting, to say the least. People trying to kill "The Revolution", and all of the revolutionaries gathering around him, it was a lot of fun. Oh yea, I was also Cigarette Face for most of the night.

Speznut Spikoo Moonkey:

Lemme just say, i arrived with the preconceived notion that anyone you meet in real life from the internet is, in fact, a rapist. Hypothesis confirmed. Before i even learned anyones names, i was dubbed "it" and tackled, given a chicken and forced to write labels, and was shouted at with a megaphone.

Things i have learned:
1. 2nd place in a smoking competition is failing, the most humiliating of all the places you could have come in. Last is a win, first is a lose, and second is a fail. It isnt the glory of being the fastest, or the recognition of being healthier of the other competitors....its just a failiure.

2. Being the youngest and most juvenile while playing calvinball is the greatest asset one can have.

3. When yellowbear is "it" and also is a safezon (yes, safezon, not a misspelling) and also is the inverse of every rule, there is no easy way sort out what the fucks going on.

4. I want a clever mustache.... really bad

5. Piniata elephants deserve equal rights

6. We are all the revolution!

JTony:

I was a bit more laid back player than most, I think, standing on the edge and looking for opportunities to literally make "fun" of the other players, or take fun from other players offering it. Some things I chose not to participate in (I chose not to abuse the elephant pinata enthusiasts, even though they had the audacity to use a champagne bottle to hit the poor pachyderm as if christening him for a long voyage across the styx).

The point was that, although I didn't excell at making rules or following them wholeheartedly (though I did do both) just being a part of such random, anarchic chaos was more refreshing to my soul than anything to follow in the coming holidays. Thanks to all for making me laugh, run, hop, jump, fall, and act foolishly with a pride that made me feel that the silly smiles on the people watching us could be worn like badges of honor.

---

shenanigoat:

I am a champion rubber-chicken head-launcher. I made Lank the King of France and I made JTony a prime minister (not of France). Highlights: bowling with loki, impromptu animal rights protest against a group of people beating a pinata animal effigy, conor unknowingly doing this task for a while without the owner's permission.

Here I'm getting tackled, while defending myself with a woopie cushion.


Chicken launching championship: lowteck vs. yellowbear



B.MHANCM: I wore earmuffs. Special earmuffs. Loki's earmuffs. Which must be special due to the fact that he's going to the south pole.

I also was a bowling pin, a soldier in the grande armée of General Store, tackled multiple times, and once again had entirely too much emphasis placed on my nipples. Thanks, Bex.

sixacross:

---

Hey Man Jackson:

First a recount of the players: 9 Asthmatics (irritating their condition by playing in the grass and smoking cigarettes no less), 3 BART-Pah's (doing a lot of unnecessary running around), 1 Humanitarian In Crisis (in good company), 2 Biomasses, and 0 Equivalenzez'z (who were probably at home modeling the virtual, not meddling with the real).

My most prevalent sensation throughout the entire event was pregnant expectation and unlimited possibility. My delight and fascination at meeting SF0-ers for the first time beyond the screen was tinged with this feeling of, "Jeez, we can do anything. Let's do everything!" I personally find that kind of freedom and openness crippling and slightly frustrating. I was frequently waiting for someone to do or say some sort of ping that I could pong off of. I think I spent a lot of time standing around grinning and imagining all sorts of adventures I wanted to undertake right then and there, outside of the openly confining realm of Calivinball.

This day of fun in the sun began for me, the night before, when I connected that in addition to other plans I had that day, I might possibly actually really be able to get to Dolores Park by 3pm. So a 'yes' on the R.S.V.P. was made, (and this being my first group SFø event) not knowing what I was in for. I was a huge Calvin & Hobbes fan, starting in junior high, so I must admit even though I hadn't played Calvinball before, just comparing it to the cartoon in my head caused my expectations to be set high.

I arrived at Dolores Park and was sitting with a group of non-players for the hour leading up to 3, attempting to subtly convince them to join the game, or join the game, whatever they were ready for. Herbie's subtle yet effective announcement (while wearing the ref outfit and yelling over the bullhorn), helped me figure out who the heck was assembling to play Calvinball. The folks I were sitting with politely gestured in that direction and said, "Why don't you go play?" So I left the nest, and before long found myself either throwing, catching, or eating donut holes. Which at some point became a delineation of the places where one could either do or not do something, perhaps it was 'create rules.' Somewhere between the arrival of the "Rubber Chicken of Rule Making Ability" and the "Eyeball Whoopie Cushion of Sound" I have foggy memories of who/what/how/when/where/why/etc... It was a rule fest-o-rama of epic proportions. More rules and tasks and points and unrules and untasks and unpoints changed hands or feet or mouths or cellphones than I can remember.

Some highlights that I do remember include: everyone (led by Herbie and his magic horn of loud taking) spontaneously self-selecting as a ratings board, judging the pie fight that was going on elsewhere in Dolores Park; my time as the 6 pin in the human bowling game; holding the 'scream' label, touching it to various folks, making a symphony of scream!

The time flew by, and the darkening sky signaled my departure back to the world beyond Calvinball. Away I walked, feeling grateful for my time with the SF0 Calvinball contingent, wanting to express my appreciation and say goodbye, but being barred by a recently created rule (see above), was reduced to muttering "Yes. Dude. Motherfucker."

By the way, when I biked by the park at 6am that morning en route to my first activity of the day, I declared a Calvinball points neutralizing rule against all other players, so I think I won.

Lank: Um... I randomly called one of the players and was dubbed the King of France. So I made up a rule about girls being hot lava and boys being ice, which... may not have gone anywhere since I was in LA at the time and couldn't really watch the remainder of the game...


SAM MATTEA yeah it was great , we almost got lost though, damn those left turns, but when we got there we immediatly found the game and had quite a time. then the ethiopian food after was................food, definately food.