{"id":868136,"date":"2026-04-17T04:21:28","date_gmt":"2026-04-17T04:21:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.rawchili.com\/nfl\/868136\/"},"modified":"2026-04-17T04:21:28","modified_gmt":"2026-04-17T04:21:28","slug":"uppies-and-downies-the-medieval-football-game-that-has-no-rules-and-no-time-limit","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rawchili.com\/nfl\/868136\/","title":{"rendered":"Uppies and Downies, the medieval football game that has no rules and no time limit"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cDo not park anywhere near the hotel car park. They will go over your car.\u201d<\/p>\n

The warning was clear: keep prized possessions away from the whirring mob chasing the ball. Footage of previous contests confirmed such advice needed to be heeded. Last year, the scrummage moved like a human tornado, damaging several cars in the process. Competitors have even died taking part in this centuries-old spectacle, known to locals as \u2018Uppies and Downies\u2019.<\/p>\n

This is Workington, a close-knit, working-class coastal town in the north-west of England, 40 miles or so from the Scottish border and the home of an ancient form of mass football, a forerunner to rugby, and a game that is still played annually in this part of the world. Like many ancient British ball games, its origins stretch back to medieval times.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is part of the very fabric of this town,\u201d Elvin Jarvis, a veteran with 30 years experience of participating in the event, tells The Athletic. \u201cThe games have taken place every year since the 17th century, including during the two world wars. The only time it didn\u2019t happen was in 2020 and 2021 during the pandemic.\u201d<\/p>\n

There are few things to know about this historic game: there are no rules, no boundaries, no time limits and no referee. It is played three times over Easter (Good Friday, the Tuesday after Easter, and the next Saturday), an unlimited amount of people can participate, it isn\u2019t confined to dry land, and it involves two teams (\u2018The Uppies\u2019, traditionally miners from the north of the town, and \u2018The Downies\u2019 who used to be dock workers living in the southern part). Like so many British towns, the industries that once served them have long since gone, but for sporting purposes, the geographical divide lives on here (although the actual dividing line is still much disputed).<\/p>\n

The point of the game is for each team to get the two-pound small leather ball (made of four pieces of stitched cow leather and stuffed with wool flock) to their designated goal and \u2018hail\u2019 it, which means throwing it into the air three times and wins you the game. The Uppies\u2019 goal is on high ground, at the entrance of a hall, while The Downies need to head towards a capstan near the river. The game starts when the ball is thrown into the air from a small bridge, which is roughly a mile from each goal.<\/p>\n

The massed mob has been known to rumble through a cinema, a bingo hall, cafes and even through a stationary double decker bus. Bones have been broken and tales passed down the generations of the ball being hidden in a dustbin or taken down the pit.<\/p>\n

Over the years, four deaths have been recorded, George Young in 1828, Chris Smith in 1882, John Johnstone in 1932, and Robert Storey in 1983. A plaque commemorating the lives lost is blessed by a vicar before the start of each game. In 2024, Graeme \u2018Willox\u2019 Dixon suffered a medical emergency during a game and died several days later.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\n Each team has to get the ball to their designated goal and \u2018hail\u2019 it (Paul Smith\/@j.paul.smith<\/a>)<\/p>\n

Tempers can fray, but matters are quickly settled.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is not nice when you are on the bottom of the scrum and you have 50 blokes on top, but if anyone is in trouble, we get them out and carry on,\u201d says Jarvis, who these days is joined by his 12-year-old son.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter what side you are on. I was hurt once as I had the ball beneath me and the weight cracked my ribs. Rollo (Iain Rollason), who is a Downie, pulled me out or it could have been worse. We look after each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

Huge crowds have turned out for the final game of this year\u2019s trilogy. Nerves are palpable among The Uppies \u2014 who have been dominant in recent years, losing just once since 2014 \u2014 as they assemble in a community watering hole before the game.<\/p>\n

For a game that looks anarchic, there are a few strategies to take into account.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll try and get a few of us round the ball and when it starts getting dark, we\u2019ll discuss who\u2019s gonna maybe sneak away with it,\u201d says Jarvis. \u201cYou stick it up your jumper and you can bury it in the mud, you can hide it in a tree. The key is not to panic and run because they notice and they will chase you and tackle you down.\u201d<\/p>\n

Already 2-0 down, The Downies are trying to avoid a whitewash this year. The ball is thrown up to start things off and immediately a scrum is formed. After a couple of throws towards a field of bracken and brambles, the scrummage moves like a giant, throbbing mass towards the river \u2014 just what The Downies wanted, as they have people waiting in the water in preparation for a swim to victory. The Uppies, of course, wade through to deter them. Steam rises from the sweaty swarm.<\/p>\n

Over the course of the hours the ball is in play, the weather changes from sunshine to rain, with a hail storm thrown in for good measure. Day then turns to night and still there is no victor. It is a test of endurance.<\/p>\n

The oldest participant is 74-year-old Joe Clark, known as Father Uppie. He has competed for the past 60 years, but has yet to hail a ball. \u201cPeople turn up and anything can happen. We could go anywhere across the town tonight,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

\u2018Nutty\u2019 Shepherd has been playing for over 50 years and has hailed the ball twice, in 2005 and 2007. Unofficially, he\u2019s achieved a hat-trick because in 2006 he gave the ball to his girlfriend, Catherine Malloy, thought to be first woman to hail in the history of game, and her son after making the crucial break.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo win can be overwhelming. Absolutely amazing,\u201d he says, with one of his sons, Lewis, sitting excitedly beside him. \u201cYou can\u2019t describe it. It is quite emotional because of all those people cheering you because you have won for your part of town. There is a real sense of community about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nathan Askew is the only man to have hailed three times in the same year, doing so in 2018. \u201cUnbelievable,\u201d he says of his achievement.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\n The Uppies have been dominant in recent years, losing just once since 2014 (Paul Smith\/@j.paul.smith<\/a>)<\/p>\n

By day, it is an attritional battle. The ball is mainly contained inside the scrummage, though occasionally there is a burst of activity, sparking a small stampede of spectators desperately trying to avoid being engulfed by the scrambling horde. Some spectators climb trees to get out of the way. Where the mass spreads is impossible to predict. At times, the scrum doesn\u2019t move at all and becomes a static heap of trapped limbs.<\/p>\n

Hours later, as night falls, the battle returns to its starting point. An impromptu rave breaks out among a group of young spectators and, eventually, there\u2019s a rush as word breaks that a \u2018Downie\u2019 has made off with the ball. The crowd moves en masse towards the harbour. But then there is a realisation that it could be a decoy.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s with the Uppies,\u201d someone shouts. The crowd turns and marches uphill. Sure enough, the ball is in the hands of Sam Williamson, who has been playing with his brother, Jack, since he was a child. His first game was 20 years ago. Now, with the crowd gathering in celebration, he has his moment in front of the derelict ruin.<\/p>\n

Chants of \u201clet\u2019s all have a whitewash\u201d are followed by Williamson being raised onto the shoulders of his team-mates. He throws the ball into the air three times before being carried back into the centre of town.<\/p>\n

\"\"
\n The game starts when the ball is thrown into the air from a small bridge, which is roughly a mile from each goal (Paul Smith\/@j.paul.smith<\/a>)<\/p>\n

The police, who had been keeping a watchful eye over the game, along with search and rescue officers, without ever getting involved, stop traffic to allow the throng of players and spectators to walk back to the pub for their celebrations, which is where Williamson regaled everyone with how he achieved victory.<\/p>\n

As darkness fell, he said he got his hands on the ball, out of the scrum and into his trousers without being seen. He then calmly ate a sweet from his pocket, he said, and, as the crowd moved off, jumped into the beck, wading, scratching his face and neck in a thorny thicket, before running up a path to victory.<\/p>\n

It is a story he will probably tell for years to come. Because that is what this ancient game is about \u2014 community, just as it has been for generations.<\/p>\n