Sport – catch
Several decades ago when I was a youngster, [translation = teen] games or P.E. [translation = sport{s}] were compulsory, a daily event in the curriculum. One game that we played in a particular season [translation = although I can’t remember which
season] was netball. [translation = only for girls and exactly the same as basket ball] For as long as I can remember [translation = 4] I have been allergic to physical exercise in any shape, form or description. [translation = literally, a pointless exercise] Nevertheless I participated and attempted good sportsmanship skills, even though I didn’t know then that that was what they were called. [translation = psychobabble]I dislike physical exertion and failed to comprehend the purpose of pursuing a small ball. I also learned to ‘defend.’ To ‘defend’ meant to block the path of the person holding the ball to prevent them from throwing the ball through the net. As I was an exceptionally short person, I wasn’t much good at that either. [translation = but that’s the price you pay for being the ‘youngest’ in the class] This latter skill has proved useful in later life. [translation = now] I spend an unnatural amount of time corralling the boys away from things that they have no business interfering with. This is an unfortunate turn of events. Until quite recently all sorts of ordinary household items were invisible to the boys. They had no interest in appliances such a telephones. The result of this ‘blinkered’ approach, was that the majority of my possessions were safe. [translation = because they were boring] As they develop and change, boring things are not quite so boring. [translation = horray!] Which means that they have to be investigated. [translation = oh no! How do you ‘baby proof’ a home were the babies are huge?] Hence I sweep around the house like a sheep dog, attempting to lick them into shape. [translation = occasionally literally]
So whilst I adhere to the original posit, namely ‘sport is a waste of everyone’s time and energy,’ I have to admit, that in one particular instance, I was grateful to find that ‘sporting’ skills are pretty much universal in America. [translation = this household excused.]
This occasion that I refer to was six years ago. At that time I was in the hospital awaiting the arrival of junior son. My doctor pal [translation = OBGYN {sub translation = doctor of potential babies and women’s bits}] was there too. He was, and still is an American. [translation = has basic sporting skills {sub translation = is a sporting champion}] The doctor stood at the ready, issuing the usual orders, such as ‘NOT YET,’ and other helpful instructions. When the moment finally came, junior shot out like a greasy monkey.Had it not been for my pal’s ball catching skills, junior would have skidded under the gurney like an over-ripe peach. So what can I say? Way to go doctor! [translation = doesn’t really work with an English accent] Spiffing good show doctor. [translation = he’s a jolly good egg]
2 comments:
If I remember correctly it was netball up until Cristmas, hockey after Christmas and after Easter it was Tennis, in my school anyway.
I remember playing hockey whilst it was snowing!Oh and we did cross-country running and it was always in the wet and the mud.
We always wore VERY short skirts in all weathers whilst the PE teachers wore tracksuits and did nothing more than stand there blowing their whistles! Such fond memories..........Not!
Same thing happened to us----I used to be able to leave things around and then when Charlie was 5 or 6, it was anything goes, and so away things went. The phone and the remote control became fine toys and the discovery of being able to independently open the refrigerator door and look in cabinets....what power.....
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