I can match your inglorious athletic moment, Spencer. In junior high PE basketball I was generally among the last picked for teams, but one memorable time I actually got control of the ball and was competently dribbling down the court, somewhat surprised that no one was coming after me. When I got to the basket and took my shot, the gym teacher finally blew her whistle and, after she managed to control her laughter, said, “Hey spazz, you’re at the wrong end of the court!” I honestly don’t remember if I made that basket (probably not) but I’ll never forgive that sadistic monster. Nowadays making a remark like that to an insecure eighth grade girl would probably be grounds for firing. But in 1963 things were different. But that kind of shit can scar you for life!
I loved to play football in our neighborhood when I was a kid, but had a tendency to catch the ball with my face (ala Marcia Brady). This would bend my wire-rim glasses into fatal unusable shapes, causing great consternation when I blindly returned home.
Your athleticism is perfectly expressed in your drumming. Precision, flair, timing, fine- and gross-motor control to rival any Sportsball hero! 😀
I shared your football technique, which was also my baseball, basketball, and volleyball technique. I never learned how to stop while ice skating either; my technique there was to slam into a snowbank or a fence. Thankful for books and music, my twin shelters from the incomprehensible sporting world!
Ah, the Morgandorfer Offensive, modeled after the opening of ‘90s cartoon favorite “Daria,” who, in the show’s opening credits, sticks out her hand the same way in a volleyball game.
Having caught a foul ball under my chin during a softball game when I was 8, I applaud my fellow parents who skip foisting sports on their kids.
It does feel like they'd be similar. My impression is Daria was merely mimicking a volleyball ref's signal that the ball was in bounds and had no intention of ever trying to make contact herself (otherwise that'd be spectacularly poor timing)
The stick figure gives all of the necessary information! 🤣
As an only child, my dad really really wanted me to be good at sports, and I really really wanted to make him happy. Unfortunately, despite trying pretty much all of them, I was no good at any of them. I like to say I was so bad I didn’t know I was bad. In soccer, I would only play fullback because it seemed like they had the least amount to do. I clearly remember a game where the ball came at me and I kicked it away, and I was SO PROUD of myself. To this day, I have absolutely no idea why everyone was upset about it. 🤷🏼♀️
I forgot to mention that in high school, my gym teacher let my fellow sports-challenged friends and me write essays on various things in lieu of playing sports (and I suspect in order to avoid ruining the momentum for everyone else). Of course, we fabricated every bit of information in our reports. It was great fun!
LOL - I have always flinched at balls coming towards me. I found a great solution in 9th grade PE class which was to volunteer for the outfield where the grass was really tall and just lie down and hide until it was over. No one knew if I missed a catch because no one could see me
That's me. I was a total unathletic nerd. I used every excuse to get out of gym, and at day camp I would sit and read or do something else when the other kids played ball. I hated sports as a kid and I still hate sports to this day.
I can match your inglorious athletic moment, Spencer. In junior high PE basketball I was generally among the last picked for teams, but one memorable time I actually got control of the ball and was competently dribbling down the court, somewhat surprised that no one was coming after me. When I got to the basket and took my shot, the gym teacher finally blew her whistle and, after she managed to control her laughter, said, “Hey spazz, you’re at the wrong end of the court!” I honestly don’t remember if I made that basket (probably not) but I’ll never forgive that sadistic monster. Nowadays making a remark like that to an insecure eighth grade girl would probably be grounds for firing. But in 1963 things were different. But that kind of shit can scar you for life!
I loved to play football in our neighborhood when I was a kid, but had a tendency to catch the ball with my face (ala Marcia Brady). This would bend my wire-rim glasses into fatal unusable shapes, causing great consternation when I blindly returned home.
Your athleticism is perfectly expressed in your drumming. Precision, flair, timing, fine- and gross-motor control to rival any Sportsball hero! 😀
I shared your football technique, which was also my baseball, basketball, and volleyball technique. I never learned how to stop while ice skating either; my technique there was to slam into a snowbank or a fence. Thankful for books and music, my twin shelters from the incomprehensible sporting world!
Are you selling prints of your stick figure noncatch? It's brilliant.🤣
Ah, the Morgandorfer Offensive, modeled after the opening of ‘90s cartoon favorite “Daria,” who, in the show’s opening credits, sticks out her hand the same way in a volleyball game.
Having caught a foul ball under my chin during a softball game when I was 8, I applaud my fellow parents who skip foisting sports on their kids.
It does feel like they'd be similar. My impression is Daria was merely mimicking a volleyball ref's signal that the ball was in bounds and had no intention of ever trying to make contact herself (otherwise that'd be spectacularly poor timing)
Very true. Regardless of motivation (or lack thereof), though, it’s vaguely sticking one’s arm out sort of in the vicinity of a ball.
https://youtu.be/CjiMQ3sW0c4?si=WhZ850urA_IylCpI
That was a Superb Owl story, Spoon. 🥄 🦉 #Superb
Too funny! Good for you for trying. We used to play in the street yelling CAR! a lot. 😂 Love the story and the pic!! ☮️🏈
The stick figure gives all of the necessary information! 🤣
As an only child, my dad really really wanted me to be good at sports, and I really really wanted to make him happy. Unfortunately, despite trying pretty much all of them, I was no good at any of them. I like to say I was so bad I didn’t know I was bad. In soccer, I would only play fullback because it seemed like they had the least amount to do. I clearly remember a game where the ball came at me and I kicked it away, and I was SO PROUD of myself. To this day, I have absolutely no idea why everyone was upset about it. 🤷🏼♀️
I forgot to mention that in high school, my gym teacher let my fellow sports-challenged friends and me write essays on various things in lieu of playing sports (and I suspect in order to avoid ruining the momentum for everyone else). Of course, we fabricated every bit of information in our reports. It was great fun!
Sporting of you to un-catch us up on your nearly athletic moment.
LOL - I have always flinched at balls coming towards me. I found a great solution in 9th grade PE class which was to volunteer for the outfield where the grass was really tall and just lie down and hide until it was over. No one knew if I missed a catch because no one could see me
❤❤ loved this!
lol. Totally feeling your pain. Thanks for sharing this validating anecdote.
HAHAHA it's the intention that counts blondie. Thanks for the laughs:) and the drawings. Sending good vibes for pop's recovery. Xo
The Stick figures say it all. How well you’ve expressed the emotions of the moment 🙃
That's me. I was a total unathletic nerd. I used every excuse to get out of gym, and at day camp I would sit and read or do something else when the other kids played ball. I hated sports as a kid and I still hate sports to this day.
Great story, Spencer! I dunno, looks to me like your instinct for self-preservation was in balance with your courage to try for it! 😂
I feel you, brother from another mother.