Sports

Lately I've been reading Mindy Kaling's book, Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) and I've realize that we have a lot in common. So obviously the next step is for me to be hired as a staff writer for The Office. This blog is inspired by her chapter, "I am Not an Athlete".

I think my lack of athleticism at an early age was a sign of my clumsiness to come. Kids always have jam on their hands or boogers running down their nose; its expected. So kids can get away with it for a while, but only so long. If I tried to play any sport now, I would probably just stand in the middle of the field and wave my arms so no one hurt me. My participation in sports was short lived but all very memorable experiences.

I played soccer in second grade. I don't remember the name of my team, but we wore gold jerseys. I usually dressed up my uniform with a bow in my hair or a Pocahontas watch. My nickname on the team was 'Butterfly' and I brought my barbies to games and played with them on the sidelines. At practice, I remember having to do a lot of running when it was getting dark outside and having to jump over small cones and I did not understand the purpose of doing this if there was no soccer ball involved.

Soccer didn't turn out so hot, so I tried softball. It was a tee ball/ softball combo. If you were under a certain age you got to use the tee after the 2nd strike. When I heard that news, I realized everyone not using the tee was an idiot. HELLO!? They were practically giving it away. So I made it a habit of purposely striking out twice. That was my only strategical brilliance when it came to sports. Other than that I would make flower crowns in the outfield and the best part of the game was getting snacks and Gatorade at the end. Most of my memories of softball were of me sitting on a bench leading cheers. I spent a lot of time on that bench.

Because my dad is/was practically a professional tennis player, I was born taking tennis clinics and private lessons. I never got really far. I understood the basics of what you were supposed to do, but I was more interested in the cute tennis pro than hitting the ball inside of the lines. Once one of my teachers told me I needed glasses because I had the worst hand/eye coordination he'd ever seen. I was pissed but I knew he was right. The best thing about summer tennis camp was the buttery popcorn we got during our break. Note the food pattern.

I tried swim team in fourth grade and all I remember was I only ever swam breast stroke and I got a couple of honorable mention ribbons but none of the points I earned counted because I swam in the category of swimmers that are "just competing for fun". They had a clever name for it, but we all knew it was just a front. Swim team was also the first time I realized I was going to have boobs because some boy noticed them and told my friend Elizabeth that mine were "big". If he only knew.

My dad also signed me up for private swim lessons in middle school because he believed a young individual aught to know how to swim correctly. I always wore a two piece to these lessons because my instructor was a hottie. He gave me flippers so I could swim faster and I thought I was a champion and maybe he would remember me in five years and we could date. He told me I should try out for the swim team, but I knew he was just buttering me up. Those flippers were only covering up the true reality that I was a slow as hell. After every lesson I celebrated with a chocolate raspberry smoothie from the snack bar. I'd get a protein shot to be healthy.

My last ditch athletic effort was when I cheerleaded in the 8th grade. I couldn't really touch my toes or do a handspring, but I could yell. On picture day, my mom gave me cash for the concessions stand, and I didn't have a bag so I put it in my skirt. When we got the photos back, I realized that I didn't stick that cash into my skirt properly because it was hanging out like a stripper's. I took that as a sign. Not athletic enough for sports, not cool enough for cheerleading.

Still, my only associations with sports are food related. If I'm going to a baseball game I'm getting a pretzel or a foot long hot dog. If I'm attending a Super Bowl party, I'm bringing guacamole and someone else better make seven layer dip. If I'm going to see my dad play tennis hopefully I can talk my mom into getting lunch at the club because I "forgot" to eat breakfast.

The moral of the story is: food is more fun than sports.
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