Sports that revolve around the pushing or pulling of fingers (not to mention the one involving flatulence) might sound like something only children would engage in. Games like thumb wars and rock–paper–scissors are mostly popular among the world’s preadolescents. But in the Alpine region of the Central European country of Austria, finger games are regarded with deadly seriousness. Finger wrestling games, to be more precise. And rather than being some harmless kid’s pastime, their finger games can leave the competitors’ hands mangled and maimed for life.
Called Fingerhakeln, the Austrian (and southern German) sport of finger wrestling began as a form of Teutonic conflict resolution years ago. Since then it’s evolved into an organized test of wills and digit strength for which men train as strenuously as any Olympic event. The championships are held in Bavaria each year, and the regulations are as follows: Two men (it’s always men, and the wearing of lederhosen appears to be mandatory) who are referred to as “hookers” sit across from each other at a sturdy table and place their fingers into a leather strap. Any finger can be used, except for the thumb (the pros tend to stick with the middle finger, however). Once the overseeing official gives the signal to start (“Beide Hakler, fertig, zieht!”), they each try with all their might to pull their counterpart across the table. Needless to say, it’s not the most mentally taxing of athletic endeavors.
Earlier we briefly mentioned the possibility of disfigurement. Today participants train their finger by squishing tennis balls, lifting small weights, and doing single finger pull-ups. Long-time Fingerhakeln contenders are known for being able to perform impressive feats of strength like supporting their entire body weight with a single finger. Regimens also include exercises designed to increase pain tolerance. This is a necessary task, as nasty dislocations and broken fingers are commonplace, and those who compete for years may wind up with hands that look like they’ve spent decades jamming them underneath the wheels of passing semitrucks. As one thirty-year Fingerhakeln enthusiast named Emil Raithmeier explained to a reporter from BarBend.com, “You need to have thick calluses on your fingers, otherwise the injuries are very painful. Thin skin rips off easily, tendons tear, and joints dislocate. You have to make sure to use magnesium powder to reduce friction—this is the only protection that’s allowed.” What also helps is having a girthy digit, as a fat finger is said to allow you to better get ahold of the leather strap.
You’ll Be the Grandest Lady in the Krampus Parade
Another example of how the Austrians of the Alpine regions enjoy making children’s activities unpleasant is their Krampus processions. At Christmastime, townsfolk don hideous masks to celebrate the half-goat, half-demon (also known as Perchta) who, legend says, follows St. Nicholas around to punish the youngsters who have been naughty. Naughty enough to be tormented by a half-goat, half-demon. These monster parades, in addition to teaching toddlers that the true meaning of Christmas is terror, have become lucrative tourist attractions. And presumably provide a great place for horror movie special-effects artists to hone their skills.
Like weightlifters at a bench press dealing with a risky amount of pounds on the bar, Fingerhakeln matches require spotters (called Auffängers) so that neither the victor nor the defeated go hurtling over the table or backward into the beer stein–holding crowd. There is no women’s division, as far as we’re aware. In fact, females, while not exactly prohibited from attending a Fingerhakeln competition, don’t ever seem to be present in any abundance. It’s believed this may be a holdover from the olden days, when finger wrestling was a way for farmers who were pursuing the same female to behave as childishly as possible. There are divisions that separate competitors according to their height and weight, however, just as in other combat sports. These include light, middle, semi-heavy, and heavyweight. There are no flyweight or featherweight classes, a situation that may have something to do with the massive amounts of lager being consumed.
The Smell of Romance in the Air
Some areas of Austria even manage to somehow turn the process of courtship into a spectacle that most people would find off-putting. In a few rural parts of the country, young women engage in a ritual dance with apple slices tucked into their armpits. Once the slices are nice and sweat-soaked, she hands them out to the potential suitors she finds most desirable. If the young man is of the notion to reciprocate the romantic interest, he will eat the apple. Presumably wiping the sweat off is considered rude, and it would probably be even more offensive to the woman if the apple was later taken on a hunting trip and used to attract badgers.
Fingerhakeln is unlikely to overtake sports like football, soccer, or even curling in terms of international popularity. And you’re probably not going to find a single participant who’s not either Austrian or German. But up in the Alps it’s still going strong and looks like it will continue to do so, unless some busybody makes a fuss about all the men in the area being rendered useless because of degenerative arthritis.
