In Baltimore, they turn out to put on the POG

THE BALTIMORE SUN

They came, they saw, they slammed.

A milk-bottle cap tournament at the Greenspring Shopping Center, one of the first in the area to cash in on the hot POG trademark, attracted upward of 70 young contestants last night, all eager to demonstrate their skill at the defiantly low-tech game.

"It's just, like, sort of a fad," explained Ira Gamerman, 12, of Pikesville. "Everyone is doing it."

For those not yet indoctrinated into the POG way, a POG is the original and most recognizable brand name of milk-bottle caps used in a game that involves flipping the caps to reveal bright ZTC designs and logos.

Under last night's tournament rules, players in three age groups faced off for three minutes. Six caps were stacked face down on a mat. Each player then flipped a plastic "slammer" at the stack. Flip a cap, keep it. Player with the most caps at the end of the round wins.

It was a chaotic scene. Parents coached from the sidelines and complained privately about the officiating. The young participants debated strategy -- one slammer, or different slammers for different size piles? Aim for the edge or the center? Should the slammer fly off the fingertips or be hurled like a discus?

"I start with the heavy slammer, then go to the light," said Joseph Grossman, 9, of Mount Washington. It was a good method, but Joseph had the bad luck in the first round to face Daniel Sclar, part of a Reisterstown family that appears to be spawning a POG dynasty.

Daniel, who favors the hurling method of slamming, ended up second in his age group. His 6-year-old brother, Steven, was third in his, placing behind two cousins, Matthew and Jason Losover, both 7.

Jeffrey Gamerman, 9, took the first-place honors in the crowded 8-11 age group. Twelve-year-old Ben Stone was first among the 12-and-over group.

The Losovers, another POG dynasty in the making, had this advice for would-be players: "Aim at the sides." They had some more advice, then decided it was too precious to share with the general public.

Of course, in POG-speak, there are no losers -- only "non-advancing winners," who received slammers and free containers.

The game, already a billion-dollar industry by some estimates, began infiltrating the East Coast this summer. Among last night's contestants, only a few claimed more than two months' playing experience. But it was clear they had gone POG-wild over the holiday season, loading up on "Richie Rich" caps and plastic cylinders in which to store them.

Still, even with the inevitable accessories, the caps are cheap, as little as 9 cents each. The game also is quiet -- if the players don't yell -- which explains why parents like it. But why are children increasingly wild about playing, collecting and trading POG caps?

"A 5-year-old can beat Dad any day of the week and that's kind of fun," Brian Theriot, of the World POG Federation in Costa Mesa, Calif, theorized in a telephone interview. "You can't do that in football or soccer."

"It's like gambling," offered 13-year-old Sam Papkin of Virginia, one of last night's contestants. "You say you're only going to play one or two games, then you lose some, then you want to get 'em back. I set a limit for myself so I don't lose too many."

The game originated in the 1920s in Hawaii, where the Haleakala Dairy's milk and juice bottle caps were hot commodities among youngsters. POG came from the acronym used for the dairy's passion fruit-orange-guava drink.

Cardboard milk containers replaced the glass containers, sidelining POG caps' reign until 1991, when Hawaiian schoolteacher Blossom Galbiso introduced the game to her students. The game took the island state by storm. More than 2 billion caps were sold or given away in a two-year period.

In 1993, the World POG Federation bought the trademark from the dairy and it guards zealously against the name's misuse. (Much to the federation's displeasure, people use the word POG to describe any milk bottle cap and even speak of POGS, instead of POG caps.)

Technically, last night's tournament was not a POG event, for it did not receive the federation's permission to use the trademark. However, it did raise $150 for Pikesville Middle School's drug education program.

Besides, a POG by any other name slams as sweet -- although it may not fetch the prices authentic POG caps have captured on the collectors' market.

A POG named for Hurricane Iniki is valued at $30. An 18-cap set featuring hockey player Wayne Gretzky commands prices of $500 to $1,000, according to Mr. Theriot. An older set, which included POG caps and caps with the likenesses of John F. Kennedy and John Wayne, recently sold for $25,000.

Molly Abend doesn't have any POG caps quite that pricey, but she still keeps her favorites out of tournament play.

"You bring your yucky ones," Molly, 9, said, "because you might end up losing them."

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