Let's tell it like it is. My Glory Days were in grade school. Anyone who ever participated in Field Day, specifically in the category of the sprint, knows that I was the fastest kid in school for two straight years. Fast forward a couple of decades, and I suck at sports. Recently I was given the chance to reclaim my title and athletic prowess by playing dodge ball. I promptly squandered the opportunity and spent most of the night eating the free brownies on the sidelines.
NEVERTHELESS, I recommend this activity to everyone who hates sports. My cowardice and lack of coordination became my best assets. Dodgeball involves scrambling like a nervous cat. It entails screaming and hiding behind strong people. It's the only sport where you don't stand out when you flail wildly and lose a shoe in the process.
Afterwards you can take "action shots" of yourself while everyone in the background stands around.
As with any exercise in a gymnasium, I ended the night by squeaking my tennis shoes on the floor in an attempted moon walk, then I yanked my pants up to do round-offs and cartwheels. Concerned, my friend Marge tried to get my attention discreetly. "Abbi, you have major camel toe..."
--"I KNOW!" It's impossible to ignore. All in all, a fun time. I even got to play along side one Vincent M., who schooled me in the art of dead pan sideline banter.
I'll hip you to the next tournament so you can prep. Bring your Payless shoes, your granny panties, and an appetite for sweets, so you can play dodgeball like yours truly.
Posts
2 comments:
The couple that plays together, stays together.
Right on! But what about the couple who has one partner take a nerf ball and knock the wind out of the smaller, more frail and less agile partner? Do they stay together? Does she understand that he really does love her, but sometimes he gets so angry, and has to teach her a lesson?
Post a Comment