This post over on Dooce’s blog, reminded me of some of the
crap joy I’ve had to deal with growing up. See, I’m about 6’5″ tall and not the least bit scrawny. So I always got the questions from Aunts & Uncles (e.g. “when are you going to join the basketball/football/whateverball team?”). Unfortunately for them, I spent my early formative years in North Carolina and what we played down there, back then, was soccer. Basketball was for older kids and football was maybe somthing that you could do in your backyard; if you couldn’t afford a soccer ball and some shin guards.
Then I moved form NC to Iowa and up here (back then) there really wasn’t any where to play soccer. You basically had your choice of basketball or football; neither of which I give a fig for. My favorite memory of this sort of thing was when I met the coach at my 2nd high school and told him that I had no interest in either basketball or football. I could just see the disappointment build in his eyes.
Then again, I probably shouldn’t relish that moment because he more than got his revenge on me in the next 3 years of PhysEd classes. *ugh*
But the main thing about dooce’s post that reminded me of my own experiences was volleyball. While having me on your team was no guarantee of winning1; it certainly helped. What really helped was my “backhanded beeeatch-slap return” (patent-pending); see I’d be standing next to the net waiting for the ball to come over. I’d have my hands clasped ready to bump the ball back up, but I’d get bored waiting for the it, look up for the ball, see it hanging there just over the next and with my back still to the next reach up and smack the ball with the back of my hand. This worked rather like a low-flying spike; except that the other team almost never saw it coming because I was facing the wrong way. Ah, those were the days. *grin*
Oh for the record, my other 2 favorite activities in PhysEd class were Archery (I read too many fantasy novels) and floor hockey. Gods, I loved playing that game. Simply because I can fondly recall the kids who I truly disliked running full-tilt at me with the puck; expecting me to either move aside or fall down. Let’s think about this a moment; I’m 6’5″ and I wasn’t a skinny little kid. Dude, in floor hockey, I was the WALL. I didn’t dodge and I didn’t fall down. That’s what the other kids had to do. Muhahahahaha! Okay, I really should be doing some work; so that’s enough writing for now.
1 I’ve absolutely no jumping ability whatsoever, which makes some hits difficult to counter and is one of the reasons I hated basketball.