Some of you know that I love to play school-yard games. Imagine my surprise a couple of weeks ago when I came across an ad in the local monthly's weekly email for a new dodgeball league. I practically jumped out of my seat in excitement. I did manage to stay sitting long enough to register, and then I jumped up and ran up and down the halls in glee. Well, maybe I just dashed into the other other offices to share my exciting find.
Monday was the first day of dodgeball. I haven't played in a couple of years, and I was never that good to begin with, but I was ready. I had a skirt on (I only ever exercise in skirts, although I typically wear pants to work — what does that say about my personality?) and was ready to go.
After finding the venue, I located my team and introduced myself. "Is it true that you are a dodgeball queen?" they asked. (I might have bragged about my dodgeball reputation from back in P-town where the registration form asked if I had any experience.) "Well, yes. I was. I helped found a league in Portland." I'm pretty sure that any cred that my statement won me was lost the first time my team saw me throw, but it lasted for a good 10 minutes.
So we played. The gym is pretty small, which usually led to mass bruising, but this league plays with foam balls. They don't hurt too much, but they're also really hard to throw. I have no arm strength and never really learned how to throw anyway (I blame my brother for neglecting that part of my education), so all I could hope for was my patented throw-the-ball-so-it-looks-like-it-will-be-easy-to-catch-but-really-it-will-fall-short-right-when-you-touch-it-so-you're-out-SUCKER throw to work on the newbies. (To be fair, my patented throw worked on some pretty good dodgeball players, even earning a man or two the moniker "my Bitch".) And it did work! But only once.
My team is pretty scrappy though, we took an early lead in some pretty quick games. The other team threw hard, but their aim was wild. They discovered the side-arm, but don't seem to really know how to use it well. The opposition pulled ahead at the end of the first half, but we took the lead again in the second half. At the end of the match, we were tied, so we played a "sudden death" tie-breaker. There was an obligatory CCTV the Ocho! comment, but it wasn't really sudden death. We just played one more game.
We lost.
It hurt. It always does.
And then in the morning, it hurt even more. Riding to school, I wondered why my legs were so sore... oh yeah, it was all the sprinting to the line for the ball. Writing on the chalkboard, I wondered why my arms were so sore... oh yeah, it was trying to whiff the ball at the big dude on the other team.
At least I didn't break any fingers.
Monday was the first day of dodgeball. I haven't played in a couple of years, and I was never that good to begin with, but I was ready. I had a skirt on (I only ever exercise in skirts, although I typically wear pants to work — what does that say about my personality?) and was ready to go.
After finding the venue, I located my team and introduced myself. "Is it true that you are a dodgeball queen?" they asked. (I might have bragged about my dodgeball reputation from back in P-town where the registration form asked if I had any experience.) "Well, yes. I was. I helped found a league in Portland." I'm pretty sure that any cred that my statement won me was lost the first time my team saw me throw, but it lasted for a good 10 minutes.
So we played. The gym is pretty small, which usually led to mass bruising, but this league plays with foam balls. They don't hurt too much, but they're also really hard to throw. I have no arm strength and never really learned how to throw anyway (I blame my brother for neglecting that part of my education), so all I could hope for was my patented throw-the-ball-so-it-looks-like-it-will-be-easy-to-catch-but-really-it-will-fall-short-right-when-you-touch-it-so-you're-out-SUCKER throw to work on the newbies. (To be fair, my patented throw worked on some pretty good dodgeball players, even earning a man or two the moniker "my Bitch".) And it did work! But only once.
My team is pretty scrappy though, we took an early lead in some pretty quick games. The other team threw hard, but their aim was wild. They discovered the side-arm, but don't seem to really know how to use it well. The opposition pulled ahead at the end of the first half, but we took the lead again in the second half. At the end of the match, we were tied, so we played a "sudden death" tie-breaker. There was an obligatory CCTV the Ocho! comment, but it wasn't really sudden death. We just played one more game.
We lost.
It hurt. It always does.
And then in the morning, it hurt even more. Riding to school, I wondered why my legs were so sore... oh yeah, it was all the sprinting to the line for the ball. Writing on the chalkboard, I wondered why my arms were so sore... oh yeah, it was trying to whiff the ball at the big dude on the other team.
At least I didn't break any fingers.
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