This atricle is one my EN211 teacher read to us the other day, and i thought pretty much everyone on this blog would find it as true and funny as myself. Especially the gym-goers! :-) Love love love
The Weak Shall Inherit the Gym
NOT TO alarm you, but America is going softer than left-out butter. Exhibit 9,137: Schools have started banning dodgeball.
I kid you not. Dodgeball has been outlawed by some school districts in New York, Texas, Utah and Virginia. Many more are thinking about it, like Cecil County, Md., where the school board wants to ban any game with "human targets." Personally, I wish all these people would go suck their Birkenstocks.
Human targets? What's tag? What's a snowball fight? What's a close play at second? Neil Williams, a physical education professor at Eastern Connecticut State, says dodgeball has to go because it "encourages the best to pick on the weak."
Noooo! You mean there's weak in the world? There's strong? Of course there is, and dodgeball is one of the first opportunities in life to figure out which one you are and how you're going to deal with it.
We had a bully. Big Joe, in our seventh grade. Must have weighed 225 pounds, used to take your underwear while you were in the shower and parade around the locker room twirling it on his finger. We also had a kid named Melvin, who was so thin we could've faxed him from class to class. I'll never forget the dodgeball game in which Big Joe had a ball in each hand and one sandwiched between his knees, firing at our side like a human tennis-ball machine, when, all of a sudden, he got plunked right in his 7-Eleven-sized butt. Joe whirled around to see who'd done it and saw that it was none other than Melvin,
all 83 pounds of him, most of it smile.
Some of these New Age whiners say dodgeball is inappropriate in these times of horrifying school shootings. Are you kidding? Dodgeball is one of the few times in life when you get to let out your aggressions, no questions asked. We don't need less dodgeball in schools, we need more!
I know what all these NPR-listening, Starbucks-guzzling parents want. They want their Ambers and their Alexanders to grow up in a cozy womb of noncompetition, where everybody shares tofu and Little Red Riding Hood and the big, bad wolf set up a commune. Then their kids will stumble out into the bright light of the real world and find out that, yes, there's weak and there's strong and teams and sides and winning and losing. You'll recognize those kids. They'll be the ones filling up chalupas. Very noncompetitive.
But Williams and his fellow wusses aren't stopping at dodgeball. In their Physical Education Hall of Shame they've also included duck-duck-goose and musical chairs. Seriously. So, if we give them dodgeball, you can look for these games to be banned next:
Tag. Referring to any child as it is demeaning and hurtful. Instead of the child hollering, "You're it!" we recommend, "You're special!"
Red Rover. Inappropriate labeling of children as animals. Also, the use of the word red evokes Communist undertones.
Sardines. Unfairly leaves one child alone at the end as the loser—a term psychologists have deemed unacceptable.
Hide-and-seek. No child need hide or be sought. The modern child runs free in search of himself.
Baseball. Involves wrong-headed notions of stealing, errors and gruesome hit-and-run. Players should always be safe, never out.
Hopscotch. Sounds vaguely alcoholic, not to mention demeaning to our friends of Scottish ancestry.
Marbles. Winning others' marbles is overly capitalistic.
Marco Polo. Mocks the blind.
Capture the flag. Mimics war.
Kick the can. Unfair to the can.
Dodgeball is one of the few times in life when you get to let out your aggressions, no questions asked.
If we let these PC twinkles have their way, we'll be left with:
Duck-duck-duck. Teacher spends the entire hour patting each child softly on the head.
Upsy down. The entire class takes turns fluffing the gym teacher's pillow before her nap.
Swedish baseball. Players are allowed free passage to first, second or third, where they receive a relaxing two-minute massage
from opposing players.
Smear the mirror. Students take turns using whipped cream to smear parts of their reflection they don't like, e.g., the fat they
have accrued from never doing a damn thing in gym class.
Sports Illustrated May 14, 2001
