Chunkey

A game about which we've got next to nothing straight, it seems to have been a mash-up of buzkashi and road bowls. As I try to anticipate a spear-thrower trying to anticipate the spot where the chunkey-stone rolls to a standstill, I hear a ten thousand strong shout go up over the abandoned chunkey-yard at Cahokia, in support, maybe, of the idea Cahokia will win out. Maybe we should accept our understanding must fall short as a spear falls short of this sandstone disk some take to represent the sun. Maybe we should accept our grand ambitions as grandiose and our aversion to averting risk merely rash. Maybe we should support the idea that having won will mean merely 'to have come close.'