My earliest memory of my involvement in sports was in soccer. Despite my dads extreme disaproval of that sport, he let me play the game anyway. He probably knew that it would dawn upon some day to quit taking the womens self-defense course at the YMCA, and stop kicking balls.
After that experience it seemed to me that all sports were just as lame as soccer. I didn't understand why an elipse shaped ball would be any fun. You couldn't even bounce it repetedly. But one day at school on the play ground, I finally convinced myself to go play football with the other kids in hopes of being cool or making friends at least. I walked up to one of them and said in an uninterested manner, "Hey guys, could I play?" They imediately said back, "sorry, we already have an even amount of players." I put on a dissapointed look as I said, "Well thats fine play another time", but praised in my head that I didn't have to go through not getting the ball ever thrown to me and/or dropping it if it was, and so I proceeded on to the swings. Later that day it became clear to me that I did not want sports, and sports did not want me.
Ever since those two experiences, I have learned to appreciate football and basketball and think soccer is totally gay. Of course I do play ultimate frisbee at least a little religiously. But I enjoy that because there are frequently several new people there to play it every week, and because I am a regular attendee to it, I always look like I am one of the really good players. (Mostly because I know everyones name) But in all reality I am probably just above decent and thats all I will ever be.
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1 comment:
This is great. Fix the spelling errors and it's golden.
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