In high school, I didn’t play a single sport. But at the start of my first year of college, I decided to grace Brown University and the world at large with my tremendous athletic ability by joining the women’s Ultimate Frisbee team. Don’t know what Ultimate is? How about you step into the sunlight for a little bit, friend? Frisbee is everywhere. It’s on the Main Green. It’s on the athletic fields. Find any patch of grass on a sunny day and you can bet someone will be tossing a disc. Even adults play it! Crazy!
However, understanding the point of this article doesn’t require a knowledge of Frisbee. Just trust me when I tell you that it’s a sport. Naturally, with any sport there comes an opponent. But I’m not talking about any kind of opponent: I’m talking about the really obnoxious, overly pumped-up players whom your aggressive, equally pumped-up body just wants to slam into, and possibly injure. If you’ve ever been on a sports team of any kind (or even in a gym class), this article should make perfect sense to you. These people are everywhere, in every sport, in every high school gym. They will always be there, polluting your playing time with their incessant antics. Hey, you could be one of these people, and I’m not trying to beat on the love you have for your sport. Just take it easy, kiddo. Tone it down.
The Huge One – Holy shit. You are so large. You cannot possibly be under the age of 25. Quick question: Are you allowed to play on a college team if you’re 35 years old? Yes? Okay, cool. Please have mercy on me, I simply don’t have the sort of mass that you do. Is that a scar from a c-section? Or a love bite from the grizzly bear you were raised by? Oh, you’re my defender? Tell my mom I love her, guys. See you after I wake up from my impending coma.
The Old Yeller – Okay, we get it. You know exactly what everyone on the field should be doing right at this moment, and you’re making it clear. By yelling in my face. For some reason, it doesn’t really phase your teammates when you scream across the field that they need to “RUN FASTER” or employ some “DEFENSE, LADIES” as if they could move any faster than they already are. Such remarks as “COME ON, KAREN” are not as effective as you may think. They just make Karen feel badly. Poor Karen.
The Rulebook – “Um, that point doesn’t count. It says so in the rulebook, under ‘I Know More Than You, You Ignorant Hack.’” Are you trying to tell me you actually read the rulebook? More accurately, are you trying to tell me you read the rulebook by shouting some absurd “I read it so I know” clause at me? Stop contesting all of our points and just play the game. This is probably one of the least significant moments of your life, unless you want to move on to be a professional athlete: in which case, why are you here right now and not training for the Olympics? I bet you took gym class really seriously, too.
The Brag – Not only did you just score a point on me, you are now dancing around the field, bragging about it. It’s one thing to high five your teammates. It’s another thing to take your shirt off, do a victory lap, and then chest bump the nearest innocent bystander. The only thing that makes this kind of behavior okay is if it’s the first point you’ve scored this whole game. Perhaps the first point you’ve scored in your life. So, congrats on that, I guess. But please put your shirt back on.
The Olympian – Honestly, you are amazing at this sport. Why are you here and not out getting paid to do this? I hate you, but only because you remind me of my inferiority. Props.
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