How Did Two Leaf Stems Become a Pulling Contest?

When autumn leaves were plentiful, children in some northern Chinese towns and cities played a game often called ba genr, though names and details varied by place. The “root” was not a tree root but the stalk removed from a fallen leaf. Children searched roadsides, courtyards or areas near school for a stem of suitable thickness without a visible split, bending it several times before deciding it was worth keeping.

Each player held one stem. The two were hooked across each other and pulled slowly in opposite directions. The first stem to break lost; the survivor went on to face the next challenger. The action was no more than a pull, yet disputes were common. Was a sudden jerk permitted? Did a stem slipping from the hand count as a loss? Could the reigning stem be turned around before the next bout? The children watching settled such questions on the spot. In some places a stem with several victories became an “old champion”, although names and rules changed with the group.

There was almost no construction and no finished object to preserve. The real preparation lay in choosing material. A fresh stem could be flexible but stretch; a very dry one might snap; a thick-looking one could fail at a tiny damaged point. Children judged by touch, colour and bend, and sometimes suspected that an opponent had secretly dried, soaked or pressed a champion stem. Whether those methods worked mattered less than the way an ordinary natural object acquired a record, a ranking and a value.

In a period of limited material choice, a toy did not always exist first as a manufactured object. The equipment came from the season, the rules from companions, and its life might last only minutes. Once a stem broke, that contest ended; the next day brought new candidates beneath the trees. Its brevity did not make the game incomplete. Searching, comparing and adjudicating were all part of play.