Dodge Ball

Ben Stiller was the star of “Dodge Ball” a few years ago. I never saw the movie, only the commercials. The movie brought back the memory of a game we played in elementary school. Dodge Ball was a great equalizer – the fast versus the strong. The accurate thrower could be the smallest weakling. There were only a couple of people that didn’t do well in dodge ball - the slow and those that got picked on at lunch.

Slowness was an obvious disadvantage. Even the girls picked out the slow moving targets. It was an ego boost, watching the large rubber ball bounce off the back of the head of a slow moving opponent.

There was a point where I had grown wider faster than I had been growing taller. I guess it would be similar to middle age, but I was in 3rd or 4th grade at the time. The good news was that I had the agility of a gazelle. I probably looked a little funny because I had this geeky awkwardness to my leaps and dodges. If you ever saw me dancing to hip hop or rap, you would know exactly what I mean. But I didn’t get hit often.

I don’t know if schools still play dodge ball. The liability insurance must cost a lot. I saw Dusty get his feet taken out by Terry, and he landed on his wrist. It snapped.

Dusty was relegated to the sideline for a while. Dusty is an EMT the last I heard. I don’t know if the emergency treatment he received had anything to do with it or not.

One day in fourth grade we had all four classes playing dodge ball all at once. There must have been sixty kids per side, in a single gymnasium. Lots of people meant easy targets, but scrambling for the few red rubber balls was dangerous! People might get hurt fighting over “the ammo.”

Our fourth grade teachers conferred and thought for some odd reason we should get those hard volleyballs out… as if that would reduce injuries…

I saw the volleyball close to the centerline, and the slower targets were holding to the back wall. My quickness was an advantage. Just as I picked up the ball, I got hit full force from five feet away… cleanly knocking the ball from my hand. Yes it hurt. Everyone in the gym stood still from the chilling screams of a wounded gazelle. Dusty was first on the scene (along with my teacher). “Are you okay?” “No.” I am thinking you idiots – didn’t you hear my scream?

Dusty throw up on the gym floor when he saw my dislocated thumb. I had to sit in the principal’s office to wait for my mother to come get me. The fun part was watching Gary “gettin’ a talkin’ to.” His dad was in the office too. Gary’s dad said “I’ve seen this before and usually we could just pop it back in – but this looks bad. We should wait for his mother.” I thought “you idiot – do you really think I would let someone other than a doctor fix this?” It still hurt, but Gary’s dad wasn’t a doctor.

Mom took me home. I had to sit on the couch and “wait for my father.” That wasn't usually a good thing. He had to drive me to the hospital. It was probably the longest few hours of my life. Pinched nerves hurt! I know mom heard my screams from the waiting room while the doctor tried to get my hand flat for the x-ray. I know she felt bad.

The doctor said to “look away.” I turned back just as he let go of my eight inch thumb – it was stretched way out… Yes – that hurt too. Even today my right thumb knuckle is larger than my left…

-Craig