When I read that this week’s prompt for Sunday Scribblings was “sports,” my first thought was “I have nothing to say about sports.”
I’ve never been much of a sports fan; my idea of sports was either playing a favorite board game or listening to a baseball game while lying on a blanket and soaking up the summer sunshine. As a child, I was not particularly athletic--much preferring a good book to participating in sports. Physical Education was always my least favorite class in school. No, let’s be truthful; it wasn’t just my least favorite class—I hated it!
I was a strike-out queen, couldn’t run very fast, and, after that unfortunate event of being smacked in the nose while looking expectantly toward the descending baseball, always ducked when I saw one coming toward me. No hits, no runs, all errors—that pretty much summed up the way I played the all-American game. I was always one of the first ones out in dodge ball and was grateful to sit on the sidelines because I was scared senseless by the anticipation of the sting of the basketball being flung with herculean force by one of the big, upper classmen boys. It’s not surprising at all that I was always one of the last ones chosen in P.E.
One particular day in Freshman P.E., our girls’ class had been joined by the boys’ class. The teacher announced that today we were going to dance, and the boys were instructed that each one was to ask a girl student to be his dance partner.
I immediately wished my personal good luck fairy would wave her wand and create a hole in the locker room, thus allowing me to escape from this awful fate. At this moment, I figured the netherworld held more promise to me than my present predicament. Now I had to face not only the embarrassment of being the last one chosen, but I would probably be facing the humiliation of being partner to one of the dirtiest, stinkiest, grossest boys in the class. And it wouldn’t stop at that, for there would be the merciless teasing that was sure to follow.
”Will you dance with me?” a soft-spoken voice asked.
Interrupted by this intrusion of reality, my thoughts left the cauldron of ugly scenarios I had concocted, and I glanced timidly to see who had uttered those unexpected words.
My gaze shifted upward where I was greeted first by his charming smile. I quickly noted as many details as possible. He was about a head taller than me, with a slender build. He had a handsome, but gentle face and a head of thick, dark hair. His smiling eyes were accented with the most beautiful long, curly eyelashes.
I quickly sneaked a quick, hard pinch to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Ouch. No dream--this was really happening! Here he stood, the cutest boy in the whole class, and he had come to ask me to dance with him. And furthermore, he had walked straight to me, without hesitation—I had been his first choice!
My heart skipped as he took my hand and we headed for the dance floor. I smiled inwardly. Immediately I knew that, for the first time in my life, I was going to enjoy P.E. class.