Some brief notes about kickball . . .

Because I cannot give you the play-by-plays of the faculty's TRIUMPH over the students in kickball this weekend (my new rules of discretion), I will simply relate my experiences.

1. I have developed zero new skills in kickball. I'm faster, and that's about it. This does no good when you can't kick or field. And you really can't throw. Jesus, what a debacle.

2. There is a very satisfying noise made when boys catch fly balls in kickball. It's sort of a terrific thunk when the ball echoes off their ribcages. When a woman catches a kickball this way, there's more of a "dammit, ow!" reaction. This was never a problem in 3rd grade, as I recall. Damn puberty.

3. The kickball itself is WAY smaller than I remember. I can almost palm the ball now. Still, this did not improve my fielding in the slightest. I kept thinking to myself, "I lift weights, for god's sake! Why can't I hurl this thing?"

4. It's still obscenely hot around here in the afternoons. I've never seen 20 people sweat that much in my life.

5. Gradeschool kickball ruined many of the women in our department. They were almost all paralyzed at the thought of making a fool of themselves on the field. Thankfully my capacity for looking or acting dumb is far higher than in the past, so I was able to stay in without a substitute for the entire game. But still, there is little fun to be had in these sports anymore for many of us; the memories of being ridiculed by teammates, the remembrances of being picked last or close to last, and the crystal clear recollection of being relegated to the way back outfield are still too fresh to permit much enjoyment at all. That being said, I enjoyed being semi-ok at the game and hanging out with my new colleagues. At least I'm a team player, and that still counts for something. That and I throw a mean after-party.