First of all, sports and I have never gotten along very well. And I don't mean just ball-throwing sports or just ball-kicking sports or just sports that involve water. I mean all sports.My 5th grade inter-elementary school basketball team (mentioned in the entry above) went on to win the championship, finish the season with a perfect record, and may have served as my first "glory days" experience of my young life... but my association with this winning team was mere coincidence and luck.
Sure I "almost scored" that one time, but that's the closest I ever came. More distinctly than that, I remember the time I dribbled myself into a corner and panicked while members of the opposing team surrounded me like vultures. Too small and scared to turn around and push through them, I was trapped and there was nothing I could do. Due to the friendly rule preventing players from hitting the ball out of another person's hand, there was nothing the other team could do either. The longer I kept control of the ball, the more humiliating it became. Eventually I closed my eyes and chucked the ball backwards over my head hoping someone on my team would recover it. And that pretty much defined my "here, you take it" attitude towards sports that I've had ever since.
My parents always offered the encouraging reward: "We'll take you to Dairy Queen if you score a goal/run/basket/fill_in_the_blank!"... but soccer, softball, basketball, golf, tennis, swimming... I tried 'em all and never got that Dairy Queen. Except for maybe at the end of a season as consolation.
I have always sucked at sports. Which brings me to my next point: the very word "suck".
On this particular day, the teacher was explaining that we were going to take a standardized test soon and one of the topics was going to be social studies. I mumbled to myself, "Ugh, I suck at social studies." The teacher heard me and asked me to repeat myself. I casually reiterated, "I said I suck at social studies."
"THAT IS NOT APPROPRIATE LANGUAGE FOR THE CLASSROOM! GO TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE RIGHT NOW."
I was thoroughly confused. I was not aware that I said anything inappropriate. As I was walking to the principal's office, I kept repeating over and over again in my head the only five swear words I knew existed at the time ("HellAssShitBitchFuck")... and "suck" was definitely not on the list. Then the principal threw me off even more with his stern speech and pitying questions like, "Does your family talk this way at home?"
Through all this, never was it explained to me why "suck" was such a bad word to begin with. All I learned was that even though lots of kids (and even some adults) used the word, saying "suck" could somehow be offensive to somebody somewhere. My new fuzzy knowledge of this supposedly vulgar word was as useless to me as the time a few years earlier when my friend Jennifer's mother told our Brownie Girl Scout troop that we shouldn't play with troll dolls because, well, "look up troll in the dictionary and you'll see why."
Since what I did wrong was never explained, the punishment wasn't very effective. I, my fellow classmates, and everyone else in the modern world continues to use the *awful* word.
So ha, I still suck at social studies. Oh, and sports too of course.
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3 comments:
Dear Krista,
I was on that Asbury basketball game, and while I don't remember this particular game, I do remember thinking that Grandview was like the Yankees of 5th grade basketball...jerks. I didn't make the Yankees comparison in 5th grade, but that pretty much sums up how I saw it. I mean, I thought our team was pretty good, but then again, sometimes we shot the ball granny style, which is apparently not a real basketball move.
I also got into trouble as a kid for using bad words before I truly understood why they would be bad, although I said "damn," which is always a swear word...I just didn't get it.
Bottom line, I subscribe to your blog and I love reading your diary entries.
A.) I also suck at sports. There is a much disputed family story about what I used to do when i was made to play baseball. My dad swears I took a book to the outfield with me, while my mom (and I prefer to believe her version as it is slightly less humiliating) says that I just completely ignored the game, while picking flowers and dancing in a circle (because I obviously thought no one could see me and I knew that no one on the loser baseball team would actually be able to hit a ball that far).
B.) The work "suck" was NOT ALLOWED EVER in my house. My mom told us that it had sexual connotations long before I knew anything about oral sex. In the hierarchy of swearing, "suck" was in the same category as "shit" and "fuck" while "damn" and "hell" were mild - mostly because my grandmother used them all the time and there was nothing my mother could do about it.
C) I don't believe you suck at social studies, as I know you to be a very well read young woman with plenty of world knowledge.
xoxo
Diana- I'm sorry my team kicked your ass... but I assure you, I had nothing to do with it!
Shea- I hope truth is that you brought a book with you. That's hysterical. When I played soccer, I used to do a cartwheel every time my team scored a goal. Can you imagine how stupid we looked? We were the CRAZY girl.
Also, I remember that as kids, my friend Christina and her siblings weren't allowed to say "fart". Her mom maid them say "traf"!
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