So besides being all alone in a gym class surrounded by athletic boys and girls who thought they would do less in sports gym than "fitness" gym, my teacher loves football, more than anything in the world (besides lacrosse).
I can and have survived playing soccer. It's one of the games I do enjoy playing. I love the feeling of stealing the soccer ball from underneath some confident person to send on to the rest of my team to score once again. Things are always moving and there is no point in the game where you have the time to stop with thee ball and think, "What am I doing with my life?"Which is all that happens during an American football game. I suppose the allure of football is just that, the chance to sit back and not overexert oneself. However, with all those breaks, it gets really boring and long, and I, at least, begin to question my life. (Returning to American history references, Thomas Jefferson and I have at least one thing in common: contradictory personalities. One of my favorite games to watch and follow, though never an avid follower of sports, is baseball in which there is a lot of standing around. Take note that I hate playing it though, to be expanded on further later.)
Throughout my public high school educations, my gym teachers have attempted to impress upon me the rules and skills of football. Whether fortunate or unfortunate, I have avoided this fate to a degree and have very little knowledge of the rules of football (though I think I can throw a football pretty well). This leaves me standing, clueless, on a field trying to avoid getting the ball.
Another game that is pure misery is volleyball. I do not have the skills to play volleyball. They say (those that probably know better than I do) that if you do it right, hitting a volleyball does not hurt. Let me tell you then, I clearly am incapable of hitting it correctly. And if the pain was not a good enough indication of my poor volleyball skills, the ball flying at a ridiculous angle across the room must surely prove that I should not play volleyball. Okay, okay, so practice makes perfect? Poor skills is not a good enough excuse for hating volleyball in of itself?
Volleyball in gym class is horrifying. Most likely stuck in a team with boys and girls who care (or against boys and girls who care), there I am, unable to hide in a corner, on edge always waiting for an unexpected volleyball to come flying across some net (not necessarily the one in front of me either) and hit me on the head. Living in constant fear (more than I already do) is unhealthy. In soccer, I don't fear for my life. Nor in track or swimming or capture the flag. (Though swimming isn't for self-conscious me either.) There are plenty of fun, healthy games in which my life is not in constant danger.
Another game that I hate is mat ball, aka kickball that allows runners to go either direction, multiple runners on one mat, continued running if tagged, and needs 2 rounds for a homerun. But whether it's mat ball, kickball, or baseball, the idea and pain is the same. The kicker or batter is the center of attention. Everyone playing the game has their eyes on the kicker. Judgement flows as freely as the air in a mat ball game. Again, my athletic skills are not stellar so I fear for my reputation as I step up to the mat. Now many people in the class I could care less about but nonetheless, Miss. Must-Be-Perfect insists on being good. And yet I am the type who would likely trip of the incoming ball instead of kicking it sky high across the room as desired. The entire room watches as the ball comes closer and closer, waiting to see if i can kick a stupid, fat ball across a stupid gym and not make a fool out of myself.Then, of course, there's the times when out in the field. It's much like playing volleyball: waiting for oncoming, flying balls and with the expectations that you can and will catch it.
Now back on the projectile topic, I have enjoyed playing dodgeball before (this would not be in school but in other places for fun). The difference between dodgeball and volleyball/mat ball is that I am quite capable of dodging things but not capable of allowing a projectile fly towards me and do something with it (whether is be catching it or hitting it back). The way I play dodgeball is hide in a corner dodging flying projectiles. When there is hardly anyone left, I pick up a ball and toss it across to the other team who catches it and ends my part in the game. See I can't throw balls and expect it to go very far or where I planned it to go so there's no point in attempting to win the game myself. Yet, I do occasionally try. Hardly ever succeed, but I try.
Now, I have gotten more athletic over time. I can throw a football and maybe catch one if necessary. I can jog a mile and not keel over dead. But it has nothing to do with either my gym classes or health classes. I finally learned from marching band what it felt like to be fit and able, and liked it.
Gym class sucks. And I can't imagine I'm alone on this.
