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I hate soccer with good reason
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I hate soccer with good reason I know the World Cup is going on, but fuck I hate soccer. When I was in the fourth grade we were living in a very small town in Kansas and for the fourth grade they shipped us out to some otherwise disused old school house. One day while playing soccer in the gym, I went for the ball as another did and the practical upshot is that I fell and dislocated my elbow. I was nine so it was before I knew about these sorts of things or I would have popped it back into place like I’ve done with my shoulder and my knee. First my<b> teacher </font></b>won’t listen to me about how to put on the sling. She keeps repeating over and over that she’d learned first aid on a cruise the previous summer and they’d taught how to do a sling on the right arm and this was my left so she just didn’t know WHAT to do. I tried to talk her though it, “Just put it on my right arm, take it off, turn it around, slip it over the other side and gently slip my arm in.” But no. When I was finally sent to the nurses office (yes we still had them back then) to call my Mom to pick me up, I just did it myself. It was rural Kansas so naturally our school was on a party line phone and there were two old bitches on phone. I clearly had the voice of a nine year old in pain but my pleading with them that I had hurt my arm, and I needed to call my Mom to drive 30 minutes to pick me up to drive another hour to get me to a reputable doctor, fell on what were probably and metaphorically deaf ears. Those bitches didn’t care. So I waited and waited for them to get off the phone. When my Dad moved us back to Fresno the following summer, my parents signed me up for soccer. While in Kansas, I’d pleaded with them to join the Boy Scouts. My friends were all in the Boy Scouts and I wanted to join them because they were my friends. My parents, being the Mennonites they are, thought the Boy Scouts were a paramilitary organization and refused to let me join. Later in life I showed them and became a cop. But I didn’t know anyone in Fresno and so I didn’t want to join a soccer team, because I didn’t have friends who played soccer. But they signed me up despite my objections and there I was, standing in a cold fog that movie special effects are made of, at 7:00 A.M. on a Saturday morning. Our coach didn’t know what he was doing, so according to him I was just supposed to stand there shivering in the cold and damp until someone ran out of the fog, kicked me in the shin and then disappeared in the fog. So yeah. I hate fucking soccer. |
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