I have never been athletically inclined. I'm not that coordinated, I don't enjoy sweating, and I am convinced that the whole runner's high theory is just a big scam similar in nature to a snipe hunt. So no, I never played sports in school. I took a dance class in lieu of a p.e. class in high school, and I took health psychology to opt out of my p.e. requirement in college. I enjoy watching sports, but I am about as athletic as a three toed sloth; therefore, during the fall semester of my freshman year in college, when three cute boys asked if I would round out their intramural co-ed basketball team, obviously I said yes.
Newsflash: I didn't really think through this grand plan of mine to hang out with these three cute boys. I shudder at the number of times I have made a fool of myself all for a pretty face, but I digress. I genuinely wish my present day self could go back and knock some serious sense into that goofy girl who thought that the only girls playing intramural sports would be the ones just wanting to flirt with cute boys. Forget about the notion that there are dedicated athletes with tremendous ability playing intramural sports. I'm laughing at my foolishness right now. (Oh how it hurts me to think back on this. There truly is no place for pride in this narrative).
When my brother got wind of my basketball team (once he stopped laughing and regained his composure), he asked, "When is your first game? There is no way I'm going to miss this."
My team and I had just a few practices before our first game. My best friend, Jen, was also on the team because I coerced her into playing so we would have 5 players. She was my athletic kindred spirit, thus you can understand why she and I were only getting more and more nervous as we realized these boys were hoping we would actually win a few games. Oh, you mean the goal of playing sports is to improve your technique and hopefully win some games? It's not about looking cute and getting asked out on a date?
Before Jen and I could think of a way out of this predicament that I had allowed my hormones to create, the day of our first game arrived. True to his word, my brother, Tad, met us at the gym and not only did he not miss my first game but he brought his girlfriend, and a handful of our friends from work to cheer me on to victory, or at least that's what I told myself. I pretended not to hear Tad when he laughingly asked the cute boy who was both a teammate and the coach, "Have you seen Allison play?"
There I was, in the gym, stretching and warming up my muscles. I had my hair pulled back in a cute ponytail, and I was working on my game face which included full makeup, by the way. Don't all serious athletes have vanity issues? Suddenly, I looked up, and I kid you not, just as the radio in my head began playing "We Will Rock You," the other team strutted onto the court. These girls looked as though they had just left their day jobs as Justice Leaguers. I knew there was no way I was going to walk off that court without suffering some form of humiliation, but I had no idea that it would be reminiscent of The Bad News Bears. Jen and I, or maybe I should say Lucy and Ethel, struggled through the first period, we were out of breath by the end of the second period, but I think the sugar hit the fan in the third period, when Glenda The Not So Good Giant, decided to guard me. She was all over my stuff, standing head and shoulders above me with her chest pushed right in my face. I couldn't breathe, and in all honesty, I didn't realize that her aggressiveness was considered fair play. I thought she was just being rude. In that moment, I snapped. It's as if I thought we were in some women's prison status sqaubble and I was not going to be her punk. I put my hands on her ample chest, and I shoved her so hard it knocked her off balance, all the while I was yelling for her to get out of my face and back the heck off of me.
The rest of the game was just a blur, but I will tell you, we lost significantly. We withdrew our team from the season, my brother had some great laughs at my expense, and while none of those cute boys ever asked me to play on any of their teams again (nor did any of them ask me out on a date) we remained close friends for the duration of my college years. And that, was the start and finish of my not so lucrative basketball career.
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