My dad was a kind of uber-jock. He was a first-string receiver for Yale, he played hockey competitively from early childhood, and he was well-known as a serious competitor in the local tennis leagues in Eugene. How he had me and my brother, no one has been able to figure out. The only sport I ever played with any seriousness was tennis, and I gave that up in early highschool when I realized what a bunch of ass-hats the guys on the tennis team were. As a result, I have a fair amount of "natural" athletic ability coded into my genes, but basically no training whatsoever.
Thus, my policy when playing a sport is: hit it as hard as I can. A softball, a soccer ball, a tennis ball, a foosball, a lawn dart. Find a way to hit it, throw it, impale it, or otherwise make the best possible use of kinetic energy. This served me well yesterday at the sexy grad student gathering / pre-memorial day BBQ, as I was afforded the opportunity to try and hit some softballs really hard with an aluminum bat. The experience clinched it: I'm totally joining my compadres in Fall when they fire up the intramural league again.
In other news, the best piece of catharsis to come out of the new job is undoubtedly the opportunity it affords me to flush all of my grad-student guilt down the toilet for the summer. I'm not going to read anything. I'm not going to "learn" a new language.* I'm not going to write my master's paper. I'm not going to do a goddamn thing related to the formal academic discipline of history until September. Or, anyway, if I do, it's going to be because I want to, not because I'm besieged with guilt. You just watch.
* Well, maybe I'll try to remember how to read Italian so I can pass my second language exam. But I'm not promising anything.
5.28.2007
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4 comments:
After I'm done with this quarter's papers and books I am SO with you on that one... I'm leaving for France on June 26 and I won't do any "real" work until when I get to Taiwan in September. If I do language stuff or research it will be purely for entertainment and fun.
you go! Ditch that guilt. :) I have no athletic training or genetic ability. My dad was an amazing musician with a deep loathing for jocks. I *attempt* to hit things with confidence. Can't say I'm always - or even often - successful.
My athletic "ability" is limited to the talent to have all sports related equipment hit me in the noggin. Soccer balls, basketballs, hockey sticks, tetherballs, frisbees, you name it and I've been smacked in the face with it. 'Cause I'm awesome that way.
See, that's what makes you such a good goalie! The ball and/or puck automatically targets your head, thereby missing the goal!
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