Anyway, this isn't Emily's Private Diary (as is evidenced by the absence of Mead-brand notebook with KEEP OUT written in sharpie.) This is a blog. And today I'd like to discuss sports. And where is this coming from? QUESTION AND ANSWER TIME!!!
Q: Did Joe and his parents go golfing this afternoon?
A: Why yes, yes they did.
Q: Did I not bother to go with them, knowing my past (one) experiences with golf?
A: True.
Q: Did I instead choose to spend the day lounging and eating a 100 calorie ice cream bar I found in the back of their freezer?
A: Of course.
Q: Is Gilmore Girls softly playing in the background?
A: Oh, you.
Yes, I chose to be a hermitting recluse whilst the rest of the gang went away to whack a few golf balls hither thither and yon. And no. I have never played real golf before. But let's just say, you don't have to go to Indonesia to know they make terrible hot dogs.
Wow, I really need to work on my metaphors.
Here's the thing about me and team sports (and I'm counting golf as a team sport because other people are relying on you to EVENTUALLY hit the damn thing. Therefore, team sport.) We don't mesh. Reasons we don't mesh:
1. I am extremely uncoordinated. I run into door frames on a daily basis.
2. I don't like competition and the animosity that inevitably arises from it.
3. I get easily frustrated by things I am not good at right away.
4. I only like looking like an idiot when it's on MY terms. I'll punch myself repeatedly as long as it's on stage and people are laughing. But smack my face with a volleyball once and that's it. Game over.
5. I hate disappointing people. I didn't do homework for my health, people. I did it because I couldn't grasp the concept of NOT doing something I was specifically told to do. Same with sports. You tell me to hit that ping pong ball OVER the net? Damn me if I can't get that to happen for you.
I did play one team sport ONCE. I was six. It was tee-ball. We were the gold team. They put me over in left field, and any time the ball came to me, I would back away from it as carefully as a left-wing politician questioned about gay marriage. If that didn't work, I'd just chuck it to whoever was flailing their arms the most wildly. It was a pretty good strategy. Afterall, I won a trophy. Of course, everyone on every team got a trophy...but it was shiny. After that, I decided to stick to more fruitful endeavors, like chasing my brother around the yard and learning to quote Titanic back to front with Michelle.
So no. I am not good at sports. I don't like playing sports. I never really got into watching sports, either. Although, I think watching sports is like my realization with coffee. Walk with me here:
My parents drink their coffee black. So when I was young, I thought that in order to like coffee, you had to like it black. Imagine my glee when I discovered that you could dump 8 sugar packets and a gallon of cream into your cup and still call it coffee. Likewise is sports. Growing up, I thought in order to enjoy football, you had to sit there through the whole game, understand WHY they were throwing yellow thingies onto the field, and that you couldn't giggle every time they say "tight end" (tee hee!) But now I realize that you can call yourself a sports fan whilst spilling light beer down your shirt and yelling things like "GET HIM! No! Get HIM!!" and that makes a world of difference in my mind. I can get involved in that kind of spectatorship like WHOAH. Just not the kind where you need to know things.
So when Joe suggested that he and his parents go golfing today, I said mazel tov and good day. I attempted a golfing range once. I was horrendous, and that was quite enough for me. Moreover, it was quite enough for the ladies, if you know what I'm saying. Hell, I've used the excuse before and I'll use it again. These girls don't golf. I mean, look at this stance.
In what world would I be able to stand with my arms like that? I will tell you what world.
A world where I am good at sports.
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