Transcript for “Death by Kickball”
3) Poet: Whoa! Whoa! I got it! I got it!
5) Girl: I think he’s dead.
Boy2: Hey coach! This corpse is blocking the baseline!
6) Ben: Poet! Get up! Coach Fathead’s getting really mad you’re still unconscious!
7) B: Are you okay?
P: I think I just had a near-death experience.
8.) B: What was it like?
P: It was exactly like this. Kickball, pushups, even coach Fathead was there.
9) B: Oh my god! You were in Hell!
P: Nope. It was Heaven. That’s how they keep you from killing yourself. I figured it out.
As you can probably guess, I sucked at kickball as a child and quite regularly humiliated myself playing it. I am quick to judge anyone who plays this brutal bloodsport while simultaneously claiming to be an “adult” (also dodgeball and soccer).
The wooden balance beam made of telephone pole timbers was a favored attraction at my elementary school. It was one of the few PE activities you could not fail at.
April 10th, 2008 at 8:11 pm
E-Mail (optional, will not be published)
The Invisible Life of Poet by Christopher Stetson Wilson is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.