Last One Standing

That first day of P.E.* each school year was never much fun for someone like me. No one believed I'd be any good at flag football, softball, or whatever sport was in season. I was always among the last remaining dregs when it came time to pick teams, and I never expected any better for myself. I accepted the judgment of my peers. And my performance on the field did nothing to dispel those ideas.

And yet, what should have been clear to me was that the truth was far different. The same kid who was never given the chance to do more than rush and block in P.E. was throwing long bombs to his friends in "double-driveway football" at home. The inconsequential batter hitting weak grounders in P.E. softball was belting homers on weekends, even though both games involved the same slow, friendly underhand pitches. And while I was never quite good enough to make the majors in Little League baseball, I became one of the better players in the minor league.

Was I a great athlete? Hell, no. But I was decent. Yet that's not the self-image I had. And so all through school, I was almost always passed over for teams until near the end. I grew accustomed to that. I expected it. That was my lot in life, fair or not.

What's the moral of this story? I wish I knew. If I've taken any lessons from this, what I've learned isn't very good. Because I'll still have moments when I feel like a thin, bony teenager with giant glasses, standing there on the yellow, trampled grass outside the school building. Watching as others are picked ahead of me one by one. Wondering if I'll be the last one standing...



* That's Physical Education, if you didn't know; given our current national obesity rates, I'm even not sure if that's a required thing in school anymore.