At Tinsley Green

The marbles for which England is most famed are the Elgin marbles, a collection of Greek sculptures which Lord Elgin plucked from the Parthenon at Athens in the early 19th Century, now one of the most noteworthy possessions of the British Museum. To the natives of the little village of Tinsley Green, however, the Elgin marbles are nothing at all. The marbles they talk about are the lively glassies and marididdles that determine the annual marbles championship of England, oldest sporting event in the Kingdom. Through 18 reigns, since a day in 1588 when two village Hodges played for the favors of a red-cheeked Joan, a marbles match has been held in the courtyard of the Greyhound Inn on Good Friday.

Last week, as solemn as cricketers, eight teams of seasoned marblers (six men to a team) massed around a concrete bed at Tinsley Green to knuckle it out for the 352nd marbles championship. This match was the most momentous ever: the recently organized Marbles Control Board hopes to send this year's championship six across the water to challenge a U. S. team. Gravely each man in turn studied the positions of the marbles in the circle, gravely knuckled down, tried to knock his opponents' marbles off the bed with an accurate flick of his "tolly" (shooter).

To the 4,000 spectators, as spellbound as a gallery at Lord's, greatest disappointment were the Crawley Busmen from the nearby London Transport Garage, pretournament favorites because of their strong fingers (from punching tickets, they say). Overcome by nervousness, they were finally nosed out by the Old Comrades, another Sussex six, 26-to-23. To the Old Comrades went a suckling pig, to the strong-fingered Crawley Busmen a barrel of beer.

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