The sporting life

I may not look like much of an athlete now, but once upon a time, I was. I was always involved in sports, up until I got pneumonia my junior year during basketball season. I never played another sport after that, as I hadn't recovered from pneumonia. I recall my mother blaming my sickness on me smoking marijuana (which I had never done) instead of actually mothering me in my sickness. If I had gone to a doctor earlier, perhaps the pneumonia wouldn't have progressed to the stage it did. But, as they say, it is what it is. 

The photo above was taken during probably my last season of swim team, which ran during the summer. It looks like I'm doing the butterfly stroke, which is the most difficult. I recall being disqualified at least once for not doing it right. I was involved in swim team from the age of 10 until maybe 13, and those are not good years for a boy to be wearing a speedo. Pretty awkward. I stopped going to meets because I had a hard time getting rides. I recall one time getting a ride with a vanful of girls, and one of their mothers kinda felt sorry for me. I didn't know much about girls, but I quickly figured out they are very different when they are not in a classroom. One time I got a ride with the Green family. I never knew how much some kids fought with each other. That was also an experience.

I ran track (I think that's me about to cross the finish line above) and cross country. I ran cross country because I thought it kept me in shape better (than football) for basketball, which was my first love and the only sport I actually cared about. It was so much fun. Strangely enough, the only sport I lettered in was track. I was pegged as a long-distance runner but actually excelled at mid- and short-distance running. I just looked like a long-distance runner, I guess, with my lean and hungry appearance. I was an absolutely terrible long-distance runner. I was actually a lot better at football and enjoyed it more. My 7th-grade football coached called me the "hammer" because I hit so hard. I may have enjoyed it too much because I had a lot of pent-up rage. Also, I could actually catch the football. The quarterback was my friend Geoff so we had a lot of practice throwing and catching the ball.

Two-a-day practices for cross country began before school started. We ran like heck in the morning and again in the evening. I figure we did nearly 10 miles a day. Anyway, I rode my bike from across town to the school, ran like heck, rode my bike back home or work, then did it again in the evening. The first year, even though I ran through the summer to stay in shape, every single one of my toenails fell off. Do you know how much pounding your feet have to take for all your toenails to fall off? I was unfazed. And they grew back, of course. I swear I'm not a freak. At least not in the toenails department.

I recall our cross country coach calling some of his runners "idiots," me included. He wasn't a very good coach or a very good person. I think he was a good teacher, as I remember. Oh wait, he made fun of me in front of the entire grade one time, making me cry. So, apparently, he was a bad teacher, too. I think teachers are supposed to help kids grow, not make fun of them and make them cry, especially in front of their peers. That wasn't the first time I was made fun of by a teacher, actually. What's up with that? In cross country, he continued to not like me. Maybe it was because I joked around with his son instead of putting all of my competitive spirit into a sport I sucked at and only ran because it kept me in shape for a sport I enjoyed. The things he said to the kids in his care should have gotten him reprimanded, and most certainly would have today. Hell, some school districts would have canned his ass. I ignored him just as I did anyone else who didn't care for me. I ran cross country in spite of him. I remember his wife invited the whole team to their house after the season was over for homemade lasagna. She even canned the tomatoes she used for the sauce. It was a labor of love, and I'll never forget that (or the girl who made me feel so uncomfortable I had to get up and move to a different table). Also, I get to keep the memories of having fun with the coach's son and the other guys. Life should be about more than just competing. It should be about having fun. We did just that. 

I should also mention one of the finest souls I have known in my life is in the picture above. He's the runner behind me in red. His name is Josh, and he was from Callaway. Without getting into details readers probably don't care about, I want to say that I've known a lot of people in my life, and those I remember for good are truly exceptional people. He is one of them.

Basketball was my favorite sport. It was fun to watch but even more fun to play. When I was really little, I wanted to play but was too small, so rode my bike around the garage (we had an indoor as well as outdoor hoop), making a nuisance of myself. Sometimes I'd get hit on the head by the ball, but it was better than not being involved. The above photo is terrible (I'm under the hoop), but it was how I spent many an evening and weekend. My friend Geoff is the second from left and one of his sisters is behind my oldest brother. My other brother is to the far left. Both of them can be seen playing below. Incidentally, I recall meeting Cindy one time at the elementary playground above. 

When I was in 8th grade (I think), I had a horrible pinched nerve in my back that kept me on the bench much of the time. Even when I was okay enough to play, I wasn't full speed. Even sitting on the bench, though, I felt I was at the right place. I'll never forget the searing pain and my family's insistence it was nothing. Sometimes I felt paralyzed, my legs refusing to move. I often wonder why it seems we have to go through things like that, and I still offer no explanation. No platitude can make sense of stuff like that. I recall quitting basketball that year, but the coach brought me back on the team. It was very frustrating. It's true that sports can help build character, but it also reveals character.

  
Sports took up a lot of my time and energy when I was growing up. I never was very good at any of them, but I liked playing and it kept me out of trouble. Some of my best memories are from when I was on a basketball court and we were all in the groove and on the same wavelength. It was magic, and I'll never forget how much fun it was. Winning is fun, but that chemistry is even better.

In retrospect, when I got pneumonia my junior year, it was a blessing in disguise, as it allowed me to concentrate more on my studies, which netted me an academic scholarship. Though I missed competing, it was time to put my efforts into something more fruitful. It's worth remembering a time when my body was capable and strong. I wasn't a particularly good athlete (and I was stunted by years of malnourishment and sickness), but I proved I can improve anything by working at it. Though I probably didn't have raw talent, I was gifted with tenacity and resolve, even when faced with tremendous pain or a coach who didn't want me on the team. But, when it was time to walk away, I did just that, even though it was hard. I have a million memories of some special people and things we did and said during those sporting years. What I did was more valuable than just the exercise I gained. I got an understanding of myself and a whole lot of good memories. 

Thank you for reading, and God bless.