Sports

I suck at sports.
Even running, which i did with 100% effort in high school, wasn't supported by skill, so much as putting in the miles on the road. Nothing amazed me more than seeing guys who smoked in their camaros after school, join the team, and proceed to coast by on skill. Even so, I'm competitive and love the feeling of standing on a platform to receive some cheap medal bought in bulk, and engraved by my local pastor's nephew. In fact, i tried every sport i could.
Even the ones where i didn't know the rules. Like football. When I joined the team, all i wanted was to be that guy... the one who marched the team down the field on the strength of his leadership. Then the practices started, and i had to settle for just getting a hand on the ball and hiking it to that guy. Then the real practices started the ones with full pads, and I was lined up against my best friend... who was in my former position and apathetic. So, I put my helmeted head low and speared him where it counts as soon as his hands left the ball. I don't know why, but no one wore cups to protect themselves in 7th grade, i suppose it's equivalent to not wearing deodorant yet, and my best buddy was howling pissed. Tears on his jersey, he chased me all over the field only to finally catch me when the wicked 8th graders tackled me and I got one hell of a gut-busting jam pile. My coach must have seen some sort of potential because i suddenly became a kick returner who specialized in running and getting smashed and piled on by opposing teams. Even though the 8th grade jerseys were brand new and being on the team was almost as cool as that '84 Playboy hidden in my locker, I would not return for a second year.
Wrestling, though... that had promise.