#19

Today in PE we played dodgeball. Not the wimpy five on five version where you move to the side after getting hit. This was a full fledged war with armies and strategies, but instead of flying bullets we had styrofoam balls passing our heads. And instead of generals we had Carl and me as team leaders.

We chose the strongest throwers and dodgers to be part of our team and worked our way down till we got to little Susan who always sat out after the first round. Both teams huddled together and planned our strike.

You have to understand something before we move on. Warfare at our age was pretty straight forward – attack and defend. We send minor troops forward to take the initial hit then bring on the big hitters with three or four balls (and less defenders) to finish the other team off.

Let me pause before the actual game and explain what everything looks like. Picture yourself in a basketball gym with bleachers and raised basketball rims. You can hear the whomping of the exhaust fans overhead and despite the fans, the only thing that fills your lungs is that musky gym air.

Now picture yourself as one of the students/soldiers. Your heart pounds in your chest your palms begin to tremble. You survey the battle field and the opponents stretching on the other side of the court; and despite the distance you see their white teeth behind smiling lips of anticipation; and despite the squeaky sneakers you can hear your enemy’s hushed whispers. They’re coming after you!

So when our gym teacher, Mr. Hertz blew the whistle initiating the war, everyone hustled over to their positions. As we ran forward we could see the balls volleying past our heads. We zig-zagged our way up court with our balls clutched to our chest, prepared to deflect any incoming balls.

But despite our small size and agility a few of us already fell to our enemies. Left and right I saw bodies splayed on their backs on the court. I saw a blue ball roll out of the hands of my comrade who got struck on their chest. My heart pumped faster.

But still, I ran forward. Slowly but surely I was making my way towards my target: Carl. I see his figure growing bigger and bigger in my line of sight, and fortunately, he’s facing another direction! I come in for the kill!

Fwooooosh!

I miss by a hair. How can this be? I, Sam, am the master of dodge ball throwing. I can put a spin on a ball so it would curve around a standing lump of meat and hit my target behind it. I was Pro! This is what I train myself all year round for! This was my biggest –

POOOOW!!

Next thing I know I’m laid out on the ground. Somehow a kid snuck up and put a ball to my head. The kid wasn’t very strong (it was Susan actually), but what they said to me later was that it wasn’t the initial impact that brought me down, it was the dozens of other kids who flanked me from behind and pummeled me when I least expected it.

Of course this was all planned out by Carl who learned the word “flank” from his family, the night before. He relayed the term to his teammates when they huddled together during the beginning.

Carl scores another point – bah humbug!