People play sports in the street.
Okay, I hear what you’re saying, whoa whoa CW…before you go into the whole street thing you are gonna need to explain “people play sports.”
I know it’s hard for classy sophisticates like us (by which I mean delicate and/or lazy people) to understand, there are those who find joy in going outside and engaging in high intensity, highly competitive, feats of athleticism that often results in personal injury, or even worse…getting sweaty.
I don’t like it any more than you do. The whole thing gives me the creeps to be quite honest. Physical activity? I don’t even like those rare occasions that I have to get up from the safety of my computer to get another bottle of sparkling mineral water. But…some people like that sort of thing so there you go.
Now, normally people play these sports in some kind of arena, gymnasium-field rink sort of a thing but occasionally these are unavailable. Presumably because of other people doing sports stuff on them at the time. And the athletes are forced to do their sports right in the middle of the road. Ive heard about this “street sport” thing happening. I’ve seen it in film. On a few instances, I’ve actually witnessed it with my own eyes (from the safety of an air conditioned house, obviously) But I need you to understand that this IS real.
I would never do this of course. And not just because I hate “outside” or because I hate sports…or streets. I hate all these things but there is an even bigger reason that I hate street sports. I have never in my life been picked or asked to play one. And for many good reasons, all of which I would like to break down for you now.
The idea of me playing basketball is ridiculous, street or otherwise. I am about 4 feet tall and about 4 feet wide. I look more like a basketball than a basketball player (aside from being a sickly pale white…because again, I don’t go outside) I’ve got no “hang time” I’ve got no “sweet moves” no “ups” and I’ve never been approached while shooting some b-ball outside of a school by a couple of guys who were up to no good. I don’t get approached by anybody while shooting b-ball. Because I don’t shoot b-ball.
Picture this… Football is a sport where people throw a ball then run with the ball to try to capture the home base of the opponent…or something like that. Anyway, it involves something called “tackling” where you grab another person and violently drag or throw them to the ground. Now picture it on a rock solid, rough blacktop that’s just aching to peel the flesh from your bones. Also, the odds are about 135% that you’ll be run down by a car while concentrating on the football running. Why would anyone want to do that? That’s anybody’s guess.
There are actually a lot of elements of street baseball that have always appealed to me. I’ve always been a “makeshift base” enthusiast (Second base should always be a manhole cover.) I enjoy breaking other peoples windows both apartment and automotive. I also really enjoy the idea of my mother leaning out of her window, wearing curlers, shouting about my curfew. Unfortunately, there are a lot of other things like keeping an eye on the ball, running around, catching and throwing things etc that don’t appeal to me at all. So of course I don’t play it.
I don’t ever play stick-ball because this isn’t the Bronx in the 1940’s.
Where do I begin with street hockey. I know nothing about hockey. I know that the guys in clerks lost their ball, no one brought an extra one and the main guy wasn’t even supposed to be there that day. I know that pinnacle of athleticism and personal hero Kevin Smith plays which, now that I think about it, means it might not actually be beyond the realm of possibility for me.
Last but possibly not least I remember that the kid from Kenan and Kel had that awesome “knuckle puck” move that helped him catch the eye of Emilio Estevez and his ragtag crew of unlikely hockey heroes. Ducks fly together!
So that about sums it up. No sports for me. Street sports? Even less so. There are enough things to fear out there without worrying that I’m going to be hit by a car while trying to execute some Bo Jackson (an athlete) style move but just ending up another sweaty fat guy laying in the street with tread marks on his back.
Have fun! …but not in a sporty way. And remember Summer CAN”T last forever.