It’s actually more complex than even that.
The measure of *your* strength was the strength of whomever you conquered.
The Celts believed it was an homage to the valor of the vanquished, a way to “absorb” that power and a fine way to gloat.
[Lord, we’re a messed up bunch]
It’s apparently genetic, too.
Years ago, hubby’s buddy’s obnoxious, crazy wife [an alcoholic and junkie] called me up in the middle of the night, raving wildly and said she wanted to fight me.
[for no particular reason...she was just nuts]
They only lived a quarter mile up the pike so I said yeah, sure.
She never showed up.
Possibly because I mentioned in parting that after I kicked her @ss I was going to cut off her ponytail and hang it from my Harley’s rear view mirror.
[and this was *before* I knew about the “head hunter” habits of the Celts...I reckon we’re born crazy]....LOL
That kind of idea (physical consequences and ongoing humiliation) can have a marvelous soering effect. :’)
I’m thinking BTW that Harley or Davidson, or both, must have been Celts...