Not Your Typical Tourist Moment: Flunkyball in Amsterdam

Travel is full of surprises, but some moments stay with you in ways you can’t predict. For me, it wasn’t a famous landmark or a breathtaking view; it was a local park in Amsterdam, a ball, a bottle, and the joy of a game called Flunkyball. That ordinary Monday turned extraordinary in ways I’ll never forget.

One year ago, I retired from the mortgage industry. To celebrate, we took a month-and-a-half trip to Europe: cruising the Mediterranean, spending a week in Switzerland, taking another cruise that included Norway, Iceland, Greenland, and Scotland, and ending in Amsterdam, where we spent one final week.

A Retiree’s European Adventure

There is so much to write about that trip, but one experience stands out in a way I never could have predicted, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. It didn’t happen in any iconic Norwegian or Icelandic port. It happened in a local park in Amsterdam. 

It was Monday, August 26th. Amsterdam was emerging from a festival-filled weekend celebrating Roodharigendag (Redhead Day) and the revived Hartjesdag festival, traditionally held on the third Monday of August but now celebrated the weekend before. We were unaware of any of this. All we knew was that we had been on a whirlwind adventure since July 11th, and this was our final day.

We were staying in the Amsterdam-Zuid area, out of the touristy zones and in a lovely local neighborhood. For us, it was time for a tranquil day at the park.

Exploring Vondelpark: Amsterdam’s Urban Oasis

We walked down to Vondelpark, a sprawling green oasis in the city, housing a brewery, two more restaurants tucked deeper in, an open-air theater, a rose garden, public art, winding ponds, and miles of trails shaded by towering trees. 

We spent the day exploring, stopping for lunch at the brewery, admiring the park’s lush fauna, and birdwatching. The weather was perfect, with only a brief lunchtime shower. The rest of the day was clear and comfortably balmy at 65 degrees.

Vondelpark / Photo by Whaldo Digital Content

After hours of walking, we sat on a bench to relax. By 4:30 pm, more and more people were arriving. A sign indicated a free concert at the open-air theater that evening, but even beyond that, locals were returning from work, dogs in tow, enjoying a bit of exercise before evening. We basked in the comfort of ordinary life.

An Unexpected Summer Festival in the Park

The park was alive before the sun had even started to set. Groups of young people glided in on bicycles, bottles clinking in backpacks, laughter spilling ahead like the soundtrack to a spontaneous summer festival. Within minutes, the lawns became a patchwork of circles, bikes stacked nearby. Everywhere I looked, more groups were forming, their numbers swelling across the park.

Then, as if on cue, the circles began to stir. People stood, lined up, and began coordinated movements. I commented to my husband that maybe these were exercise groups, or perhaps line dancers. 

The groups behind and in front of us sat on blankets, talking, laughing, and sharing pizza, sandwiches, and chips. The participants were a mix of sizes, shapes, and colors, mostly college-age or just beyond.

We smiled at their kinship, noticing more groups building around the park. Suddenly, the group in front of us split into teams. Although we didn’t understand the language, it was clear that something was about to happen.

The Game of Flunkyball: Amsterdam Youth in Action

The friends circled a single two-liter bottle, its water barely a quarter full, while a soccer ball hopped between them like a mischievous participant in the game. A tall, young man, apparently the referee, positioned the bottle in the center, called one person from each team forward for rock, paper, scissors, and handed the winner the ball. The teams formed two lines 35 feet apart, each player clutching a canned beer, anticipation rippling through the circle.

The two players returned to their respective lines, and the “ref” instructed them to place their cans of beer in front of them. We watched silently, paying close attention.

The first player hurled the ball at the bottle. When it toppled, cheers erupted, and the throwing team grabbed their beers, chugging in unison. The opposing team dashed to reset the bottle and retrieve the ball, then returned to their line, yelling “stop!” to signal the drinking team to put their cans back down. Play alternated between teams, with missed throws simply giving possession to the other side.

We began to notice the rhythm of the game. Each group had the same simple setup: a single bottle upright in the center, a ball ready at hand, and drinks either in hand or placed at their feet. No two circles moved alike. Balls zipped through the air, players lunged to reset fallen bottles, and laughter rolled across the park in waves. Some groups shouted playful challenges; others cheered quietly, absorbed in their own competitions.

Young adults playing Flunkyball / Stock Photo courtesy of AEGEE Amsterdam

Rules, Chaos, and Laughter: Watching Flunkyball Unfold

Minor penalties added extra chaos: anyone who knocked over their own drink while running to reset the bottle had to grab an additional beer. The first team to finish all their beers won, proving it by turning empty cans upside down over their heads.

We noticed minor variations in rules from group to group, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was the energy, the camaraderie, and the way each new group arriving on bikes added another layer to the spontaneous festival overtaking this corner of Amsterdam.

Although we didn’t speak the language, the young people included us in their jokes, laughter bridging the gap. At one point, a group behind us had stacked thirty bikes in a line. Their ball struck the first bike, and the entire row toppled in a perfect domino cascade. Laughter erupted, spilling across the surrounding groups.

We watched for a couple of hours, the sun set, and it was time for our last dinner of the trip. We left the park without ever throwing a ball or lifting a drink, but it hardly mattered. Watching the games unfold, we had been welcomed into something purely local, an ordinary summer night turned extraordinary by the joy of its players. 

A Local Experience to Remember

Flunkyball wasn’t just a drinking game; it was a glimpse into how Amsterdam’s youth claim their city, filling it with laughter, friendship, and the easy freedom of bikes and open spaces.

As we walked away, the sounds of cheering followed us down the path, a reminder that sometimes the most memorable travel moments come not from what you do, but from what you get to witness.

Reflections on an Extraordinary Summer Night in Amsterdam

I may not be twenty-something anymore, but I still love a good game. So who’s up for a round of Flunkyball?

-J.S. Whaldo