schoolyard subversion

2000-08-14 [< * >]

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzzt! As I sleepily whacked my alarm clock, the fog surrounding my brain began to clear and I realized what was in store for me today: school. I decided to go back to sleep.

Aaron, get up! Yes, not content with forcing us to sit through days of boring classes, followed by mandatory after-school sports (with attendence at all games, of course), the school had decided to force us to end our summer a few weeks earlier and attend pre-season sports practice. To put it mildly, I was not thrilled.

The last time I had played soccer was in Kindergarten, when I was scared off by a rainy day, and thus, a terribly messy field. I came home encrusted in several layers of mud and had an awful time getting it off. After the experience, I decided to never play soccer again.

When I found out about the mandatory sports requirement for high schoolers, I looked to see what my options were. There really wasn't much of a choice. It was either soccer or football. Football required practice twice a day, for two weeks; soccer was once a day for one week. The choice was clear, but not welcome.

So that's why I found myself getting out of bed, checking my email, stuffing my face with cereal and rushing off to the my dreaded school. As the car pulled out of the driveway and began the fifteen minute trek, I slowly grew more nervous and worried. Could I take it? Only time would tell.

Finally, we were there, the old buildings of the campus appearing once again before my eyes. It was hardly a joyful experience. Luckily, my thoughts were dragged away from the gloom of returning to the prison where I would live out my days for the next year by a swarm of hugs, hellos and how are you's from my friends. I then marched onward, with the strange sensation that I was walking towards my doom.

But I lived through it. We kicked, passed, trapped, caught and fought and I was able to do most of it, even if I did get a bit sweaty. My Geography teacher for the year was our assistant coach and seemed like a nice enough guy. I didn't get the chance to telll him what I thought of modern teaching methods, though.

Afterwards, we were provided with a lunch, none of which I could eat, of course. It was a good chance to catch up with friends and discuss the year ahead. Everyone (or perhaps it was just me) seemed rather gloomy, the realization finally dawning on them that their summer was drawing to a close and they would live out the rest of their days in the torture of our school system. I got a chance to hear our new principal and the new head of school speak. They seemed nice enough, and had a noticeable lack of buzzwords and gibberish. Perhaps there's still hope yet.

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