By Johnny Coomansingh
In those days there were no cellphones, tablets or Play Stations. Most of our games were played outside; in the yard or in the road. We pitched marbles during the summer months, on weekends, or any time we could muster a moment when it was dry outside. Almost all the children of the immediate neighbourhood played in front of Miss Evelyn’s and Miss Tussin’s house on Adventist Street. The front yards were sandy, flat, and clean; the ideal places for a good game of marbles. Quite interesting and amusing to me now as I write, was the way we bargained, rallied, and sometimes cheated during a game.
No one wanted to be a loser less the talk spread throughout the land that he cried buckets of tears for losing his bank of marbles. Cheating in slick ways was in essence, the game. Players used every ounce of skill, cunning, and psychology to fleece the opponents’ marbles; a game of marbles in our day was a hustle.
There were many kinds of marble games, but most popular game was Tap all, Fats All. To tap your opponent’s taw or ‘shooter’ marble is the object. A taw could be a large ‘marble’ known as a bongo, a steel or slug (round slug from a spent ball bearing) or a kiao (a multicoloured variegated marble. A kiao marble was a prized taw and was thought to bring luck in a game.
A ring about two feet in diameter would be drawn and equal sets of marbles from each opponent will be placed in the ring. We would then go up a good distance from the ring, the bounds, to pitch or start the game. The bounds was a line drawn about six to eight feet from the edge of the ring. If your taw entered the ring and stayed or fats in the ring, you lose all your marbles. However if you are able to tap (cack) your opponent’s taw either by zupping (aiming while standing from up in bounds to hit your opponent’s taw), puksaying (equivalent to zupping while stooping with hands on the ground), or by placing it on a bumbay (small mound) you would then be the winner.
In the marbles game, a player must watch his opponent’s pitching hand like a hawk to prevent bringzing, which is described as illegally advancing the taw with sleight of hand to get closer to the ring. Cinchsing is another form of bringzing. Cinchsing is done near to the ring, only less deliberate but still an illegal move.
A good marble player with good muscle memory who could cack his opponent’s taw several times during a game was thought of as a bayje player. One who was not bayje was known as a pork player. Sometimes bad luck strikes and you normally hear players saying, “ah rel pork today boi.” We not only had fun with marbles. Top spinning, mainly for boys, was also one of our favourites and that too had its language idioms or jargon.
Our tops were all handmade. Very rare would you see the blue, red, and white Chinese-made tops on our street. Every little guy learnt the art of making a top using a machete, pocket knife, and some broken glass and sandpaper. Several woods in the neighbourhood were sought after for top making; the harder the wood the better, so we experimented. We tried guava, orange, bamboo root, and angelin (Andira inermis) wood.
The most popular was guava wood because it was hard enough and easy to obtain. After the top is shaped and sanded, a nail is affixed and the end is properly sharpened. A length of marling cord is used to spin the top. If the top sleeps or dodoes without dingolaying defined as moving in a jerky fashion, then the top is perfect for a game of Three Line.
Although the game of One Line is played, there are more participants, excitement, picong, (verbal harassment from the French piquant which means to stab or prick) and laughter in a game of Three Line. Any number of top spinners can join in the more popular game, Three Line. The object of the game is not to allow your top to stay down on the line for too long. This will depend to a large extent on the skills of all the players. Three lines will be drawn with equal spaces between each line. Many times we used the distance covered by three light poles stopping for vehicles to pass and then resume.
The first top to go down on the first line among all spinners is the top of the spinner who spun farthest away from the line. It was a kind of nearest the line determination. Once your top is on the ground it is difficult to get up again unless someone spins and does not touch your top on the ground. In trying to hit the top on the ground the spinner can spin on the ground and make contact. If a spinner misses, then his top goes down.
When the top is spun, a spinner would have to go down and pick up the top in the palm of his hand and use it to hit the top on the ground to send it to the respective line. Spinners can also use their hallaycord skills to pull their top into the air and drop it in the palm of their hands. This is an acquired skill; much practice is involved. With top spinning in hand, the spinner could then use it to hit the top on the ground to the next line.
Many times, spinners sometimes experience the swingbouff effect (a failed spin with the top running away on its side) much to the heckling and laughter of the other players. This action is ‘dangerous’ in a game of Three Line because that top could surely be the next top on the ground. If and when any respective top goes up to the third line and comes back down to the starting line (the 1st line) then all hell breaks loose on that top.
Everyone will tie his top in a special knot for miyay (action in taking aim) to cause harm, disfigure, or destroy the top on the ground. The owner of the top might cry or beg, but the price must be paid. This is the reward all the spinners have been waiting for. All spinners will then ‘take ah faye’ or get the chance to puncture this poor top. The loser’s top could end up with pee holes (little holes) poondungs (large holes), biscuits (broken off chunks), or a total split down the middle. This is now a top that is of no use and sometimes the owner goes away crying or pretty sad.
Our British colonial roots engendered the game of cricket. After Sunday School meetings with Mr. Ramkissoon, the Sunday School teacher, all the boys and girls in our village went headlong to our little cricket pitch to pick teams. Teams consisted of both boys and girls. Some of the girls were better than the boys. We constructed our very own cricket pitch on somebody’s vacant lot. A crowd assembled every Sunday afternoon to see us play windball cricket.
With no money at all to buy cricket balls, bats or pads we settled for homemade bats and tennis balls. We had so much fun and laughter with each other. We fashioned bats from coconut branches, the buttresses of the bois canot (Cecropia peltata) tree, cedar (Cedrella mexicana) wood or any wood that we could find. Old pitch oil tins were sometimes used for wickets. All in all, there was fun, excitement and togetherness. Up to this day we all are still friends and are still glad to see each other.
Police & Teef was yet another game we loved to play. At the front boundary of Ms. Tussin’s yard was a fence that consisted of large clumps of Christmas palms interplanted with ixoras (Ixora coccinea). Many of our evenings were spent playing hoop (hide and seek) or Police and Teef. After a good sweat, much excitement and laughter we all went to the public standpipe for a good spray-down bath that we so enjoyed. Police & Teef today has a totally different meaning.
In these modern times in Trinidad it is quite difficult for the public to distinguish the police from the thieves. There are some police officers who are crooks! Just look at this report dated 05/03/2025, “Cop charged with extortion” from CNC3 reporter Ryan Bachoo:
“A police officer and a Carapichaima man have been charged with multiple offences related to extortion. In the central division, Naboth Bynoe, a 38-year-old police officer, appeared before judge Indira Chinebas at the Couva Master’s Court on Thursday. He was charged with two counts of demanding money by menace, kidnapping, robbery, and one count of larceny. He was granted bail with surety in the sum of $650,000. The Trinidad and Tobago Police Service (TTPS) said the charges stemmed from two separate reports.
In the first instance, a 39-year-old victim arranged to meet someone with whom he had been communicating on Instagram between January and March 2025. At the agreed location—a pharmacy carpark in Couva—the victim was seated in his vehicle when a man, dressed in dark clothing, a hat, and wearing a medical face mask, knocked on his window. The man produced what appeared to be a TTPS identification card and claimed to be attached to the Couva Police Station.
He ordered the victim into the passenger seat and drove to a car park near the Couva Health Facility. The suspect accused the victim of communicating with someone who was underage. He further claimed that the person he had been communicating with was traumatized and had to seek counselling in the sum of $30,000. The suspect suggested that the matter could be resolved if counselling fee was repaid, with him acting on behalf of the alleged traumatized person. The victim indicated he only had $5,000, and the suspect drove him to a bank, where he withdrew and handed over the money. The suspect told the victim he would be contacted later for the balance before leaving on foot…”
It seems that now in this late stage of my life what we could offer is Teef and Teef because you can’t differentiate who is teef and who is police in Trinidad. The games we played on Adventist Street are long gone. I have no clue if children in Trinidad still pitch marbles, spin tops in the road, play Police & Teef or engage in a community style windball cricket match. If there is a lack of such activities, then we have to take stock about how we educate our offspring. I once learnt: “Play is the Foundation of Learning.” I will leave this right here!
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