Race Game is a pencil and paper game, involving the pencil flick action.
On a sheet of paper, draw the outline of a circle or oval. It does not have to be perfectly circular, and some unevenness can improve the game. Now draw another circle or oval inside that, more or less concentric with gap of one or two centimetres between the two. This produces a loop of "track".
Now draw a line anywhere across the two lines. This is the starting marker. A player starts by putting the point of a pen (or pencil) on the starting marker, placing their palm on top of it, and pushing it only using the palm of their hand. It should draw a short line before the pen slips. Where this line stops is the next starting point. If a player goes outside the path, they next start where their pencil left the track. The winner is the first to complete a lap.
Any number of players can play, using differently coloured pens, if required.
Famous quotes containing the words race, game and/or pencil:
“I never feel so conscious of my race as I do when I stand before a class of twenty-five young men and women eager to learn about what it is to be black in America.”
—Claire Oberon Garcia, African American college professor. As quoted in the Chronicle of Higher Education, p. B3 (July 27, 1994)
“Vanessa wanted to be a ballerina. Dad had such hopes for her.... Corin was the academically brilliant one, and a fencer of Olympic standard. Everything was expected of them, and they fulfilled all expectations. But I was the one of whom nothing was expected. I remember a game the three of us played. Vanessa was the President of the United States, Corin was the British Prime Minister—and I was the royal dog.”
—Lynn Redgrave (b. 1943)
“Then, bringing me the joy we feel when wee see a work by our favorite painter which differs from any other that we know, or if we are led before a painting of which we have until then only seen a pencil sketch, if a musical piece heard only on the piano appears before us clothed in the colors of the orchestra, my grandfather called me the [hawthorn] hedge at Tansonville, saying, “You who are so fond of hawthorns, look at this pink thorn, isn’t it lovely?””
—Marcel Proust (1871–1922)