The late 80’s and early 90’s marked the popular rise of hacky sack. I can’t exactly pinpoint the beginning of hacky sack for me. I know it was some time during elementary school. I can recall a Wilson Mack half my size, struggling for 10 hits in his front yard, seeking the approval of his older brother. This short spurt of footbag was plagued with a lack of success and was over almost as soon as it had started. The fire in my heart for hacky sack had burned out, and I was hacky-less for many years. Upon closer examination I believe that the drought of footbag in my life must have coincided with the popular death of hacky sack. While somewhere deep in side of me I’m sure that a candle was still lit for my deceased lover, I was at a point in my life where being “in” with the “in” crowd was more important. So, I abandoned the bag for some time. Later in middle school when I finally developed a personality of my own, a drive to be different rekindled the fire in my heart, but not to its full capacity.

My friends and I would hacky sack every now and again, but it wasn’t a real passion just yet. At this point we lived for playing Golden Eye and listening to Cake (not the delicious fluffy dessert, but the band). As we matured, and developed we would grow bored of Golden Eye, and Cake and all the other leisure activities that had sparked our eyes along the path of adolescents. However, one activity stayed true to our hearts. One vocation lurked in the back of our hearts and minds this whole time…Hacky Sack and it was about to reach its full potential.

Hacky sack is a great American past time. I’m not saying that it is by far the most exciting and enjoyable sport/activity period, but you can’t deny the beauty of its simplicity. It can be played anytime anyplace with anybody. A standard footbag is a pocket sized sack full of sand, beads, or I’ve even seen some full of seeds and corn cornels. The sack itself can be woven or stitched together and can be made of just about any material. Hacky sacks come in all colors, shapes, and sizes as do hacky sackers. Anyone can play. Hack circles are always open to passersby.

I remember once, my friends and I drove to Tennessee for a river front concert the day before we were to graduate from high school. Having never sacked out of state, we were not sure if the people of the great state of Tennessee would be accepting of hacky sack. Being the rebellious teens that we were, (having just driven through three states to see a concert the day before graduation) we decided to hacky sack with or without Tennessee’s approval. However much to our surprise, stranger after stranger from all different walks of life accosted us and asked to join our hack circle, and of course we didn’t refuse them. After a little discussion over a riveting round of hack, we had gotten to know these “strangers” pretty well, and in fact they weren’t strangers at all. The point of relating this story to you is to demonstrate that the beauty of footbag is not completely contained within its simplicity. It is also beautiful because it brings people together. Hacky sack is a very social activity. High level sacking can be executed simultaneously with an in-depth conversation about the effects of global warming on aquatic plant life in the North Pacific.

For some unexplainable reason my friends and I began to hacky sack at an increasing rate as we entered high school. Some theorist would argue that when one reaches a certain level of intelligence one’s drive for the footbag increases, and intelligence and footbag love grow exponentially, side by side, bringing said person closer and closer to omnipotence. But, it’s just a theory. We started hacky sacking every weekend, and after school everyday, but that just wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough time before school, after school, and on the weekends for hacky sack to reach its full potential. So we started taking our hacky sacks to school with us and hacking during the passing periods, and during the lunch period. But, as soon as we thought that had made a breakthrough hacky sacking in the hallways and in the cafeteria was outlawed, and we were back to square one. How? What? What could we possibly do to create more time for footbag?

Then one brisk Friday afternoon myself and another avid hacky sacker Josh Houchin were kicking the bag around and preparing to go to the “away” football game, and it hit us, like a hacky sack full of bricks. We had solved the unsolvable. If you are already hacking during all of your free time, and you want more time to hack you simply hack when you’re not free. You’re probably thinking, “This boob hasn’t solved anything at all, that’s ridiculous.” Well, think again my friend, think again.

The plan was to start a petition for an official, school sponsored, approved by the board, hacky sack club that would be held during the designated club time. The school would be paying teachers to watch us hacky sack and they couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. What we hadn’t realized was that we had inadvertently started a footbag revolution. Somehow just by hacking at every turn my close circle of friends and I had ignited a flame in the hearts of young high school students all over, a flame that burned for footbag.

So, Josh and I grabbed a pen and some paper and headed to the football game. Before the first quarter was over we had filled our petition with over 90 names. We couldn’t even grasp the mutual love for the bag. In retrospect it doesn’t even seem probable that 90 students from my small high school would have even attended an away football game. I guess that’s just the magic of the footbag, bringing people together.

First thing Monday morning we took our petition to the vice principal, Mr. Shilawski, a man after our own hearts, a man that had been known to jump into a hack circle or two at lunch time. He thought that it was a great idea, it was something to get kids motivated, activated, ready to learn, and of course we agreed. He said he would just have to show it to Mrs. Dunn, the principle, and if she thought that it was okay then he would take it to the school board.

For the next week we kept our fingers crossed and kept on hacking. Then one day a message was delivered to my first period calculus class, instructing myself and another student who was adamant about the creation of a hacky sack club to report to Mr. Shilawski’s office. This could only mean one of two things, one that hacky sack club was approved or that I was going to get a “misconduct” for parking in teacher parking again. “But wait” I thought, “I didn’t park in teacher parking today”…Hacky Sack Club was approved!!! When Kegen, the adamant hacker, and I returned to calculus class we immediately asked our teacher Mr. Jerger to be our faculty sponsor, and of course he accepted. Over the next few days announcements were made regarding the new Hacky Sack club, instructing students where and when they could meet to join the club.

I remember a few of us went down to the 900 hall, which was the designated meeting location, a little early on the first day just to survey the area. The anticipation was killing us. The 900 hall was barren and seemed endless, we all just stood in a cluster not talking, each gripping his own footbag tightly almost fearfully, and all wondering what the first club meeting would bring. The silence was deafening, and then it was cut by the booming dismissal bell. The hallways were flooded with students rushing to their lockers to put up their books and head to their club of choice. None of us had any idea of how many students would show. Then we noticed the bustle of student growing more intense, then suddenly a wall of students began to poor down the 900 hall, but these weren’t just students these were footbaggers. They came with mob mentality, hacky sacks and fancy feet.

147 students showed up for the first meeting, it was the largest club ever to grace Whiteland Community High School. Never before had that many students, under their own will, been brought together to participate in any extracurricular activity at our high school. We made history that day, it was a beautiful thing. The Hacky Sack club still meets at WCHS, and it will forever be our legacy. The Daily Journal, The Indianapolis Star, and the Smoke Signals all did stories on us starting the club. A good friend of mine and a fine sacker, when interviewed about the Hacky Sack Club said, “It’s the epitome of all things footbag.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

I see many similarities between the decline of the ancient civilization on Easter Island and events in North American culture. Easter Island can be seen as a miniature North America, a small scale New World, a pint-sized land of opportunity.

When the first Polynesians settlers arrived on Easter Island They, like our fabled pilgrims, were welcomed by lush forests full of food, building materials, and natural resources ripe for the picking. So, they, like the fist Europeans to land here, decided to settle and why not; to them Easter Island was a virtual cornucopia of comfortable living. So, these Polynesian Pilgrims like there North American counterparts began to prosper and multiply just like any group would if it stumbled upon a cache of resources. Easter Island developed a government and a complex political system similar to ours.

After a while, the Easter Islanders began constructing large stone statues in their spare time. The size of your clan’s statue undoubtedly became a symbol of your wealth and prosperity. As a result the statue’s kept getting bigger and bigger just like the islands population. These seemingly purposeless statues are analogous to North America’s huge houses and gigantic SUV’s; the bigger your house and SUV the better everyone thinks you are. When your neighbor gets a Chevy Trailblazer and a hot tube you’ve just got to have GMC Yukon and an Olympic size pool.

One major difference between North America and Easter Island is that Easter Island is only 64 square miles. So, with their population growing as quickly as it was they reached critical mass rather quickly. The growing population of Easter Island was cutting down the forest faster than it could regenerate; they were outgrowing their resource base. The Easter Islanders, like citizens of the US, could watch as their over consumption destroyed the forest along with varieties of sea and land birds. As the forest disappeared so did the materials needed to transport and erect their statues, resulting in the abandoned statues that can be found all over Easter Island today. Perhaps in a few hundred years one will find abandoned SUV’s and vacant mansions littering the coastlines of North America.

With the decline of their food supply Easter Island could no longer feed their chiefs and bureaucrats who kept their complex society running smoothly, resulting in a regression to survival of the fittest; eat or be eaten, literally.

By the time Easter Island was discovered by Europeans there wasn’t a single bush or tree over ten feet tall, no native animals larger than insects, and the human population had crashed. The question is, do we want to find ourselves in this same predicament? Every day our population increases and our resource base decreases just like Easter Island. I’d say that the biggest difference between us and the Easter Islanders is that we, unlike them, have a recorded history to look at. We have the benefit of being able to look at the fate that Easter Island suffered or the fate that the Mayans suffered and learn from it.