It may be the crowning achievement of my junior high career and I have to keep it a secret. The fast kids would scramble for the balls, pelting each other in the face, while the more timid amongst us cowered in the corner until our time came. The smell of fear would get so heavy in that gym that it overpowered the odor of gym socks. Tell me the teacher didn't get some sort of cheap thrill out of that.
Kids play some derivation of dodgeball everywhere.
In my cousin's spacious suburban backyard, where we only had one decent ball, the ball was tossed up in the middle of the yard and a mad scramble ensued. Whoever got the ball could take three steps before throwing at whoever they wanted. It was truly survival of the fittest. And of course we honored the rule devised for the weak-armed out there, that catching a throw eliminated the thrower. I can't describe the empty feeling I got when a PE-teacher friend of mine told me that most schools won't let dodgeball take place anymore.