I already wrote about my disdain for PE classes in high school, but I did have just one day when I got to taste life as a jock in my sophomore year.

It was a softball day in gym class. I was always one of the last ones picked for any team in the school yard lottery and put to pasture in the outfield. The field was so arranged that the outfield players actually shared space with the other games going on at the same time, which was nice because you could hang out with the other losers and misfits. Usually we would just lie down in the grass, talk, and not even pay attention to the games.

And that is just what I was doing when I heard the crack of a bat and kids screaming at me. I looked up and saw the ball headed right at me. I did not even have a glove. I held up my hand really to protect myself and the ball literally fell right into it with a slap. It was surreal. I could not believe it. Kids were screaming their heads off.

That ended that inning for the opponents and we were up. It was one of those games where the pitcher was on your team and threw balls you could hit. I got pretty good at just hitting them hard enough and at the right angle so they would make it to 1st base before I did so I could just get it over with and not have to get involved. This time I was kinda pumped from my heroics on the field that I took a serious swing at the ball and connected perfectly in the sweet spot of the bat where I could feel the physics of it down to where my feet touched the ground. It sailed through the air and hit the asphalt on the side of the field and bounced and rolled all the way to the auto shop wall. Two kids were on base and we won with that hit.

The coach came up to me afterward and said that was the longest hit he had ever seen with a softball on that field. He asked me if I wanted to try out for the baseball team. I explained what just happened was an act of God and would only happen once, like a lightening strike. I could tell I just hit another mental softball over his head with that remark. It was like staring into the eyes of a dog trying to understand.

For the rest of the day I was a hero and kids even came up to me that heard about it. By the next day I was back to lying in the grass, running 15 minute miles, and tapping balls to 1st base. But for one day I got to know how a victorious gladiator must have felt in Rome after a kill. Ecce homo!

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1Christopher Anderson