Intramural dodgeball championship

 So this afternoon we concluded here at KSC the dodgeball intramural championships tonight. I'll spare you reading the entire story and start with the end.

We Lost...to the Basketball team.

Now I don't want to be a complete jerk off and pat myself on the back here. But if there's two things in this world where I'd pride myself on, it'd be dodgeball and...I don't know eating copious amounts of food? Jeez, but seriously. The basketball team throws hard. I'm not going to put it lightly, their tough dudes, like all jacked and crazy athletic. I'm not saying the team I wasn't on didn't have talent. Oh we most certainly did, there was a reason we were in the finals.

The match started off intense with us taking the first game. And like most intramural championships, nobody was watching this epic championship go down.

I was the last person left in the first match, and I single handedly took down four of them. I must have been throwing those balls with everything, my shoulder still kills. Anyway besides the 100 mph lighting I was throwing, the basketball kids were good. We fell in the second game as One of the taller kids caught the hot fire I was throwin'.

My teammates god bless them, were ruthless. My buddy took a rocket to the face, and somehow still stood up just long enough to almost get impaled by a fastball coming from across the court. These basketball kids were good.

Besides this being our 3rd game of the night, I felt good. I must have taken out over 15 of them throughout the 6 games that we played. Now keep in mind it's a 6 on 6 game. I'd say that's pretty good. My teammates were even better, they were catching fireballs, but there was just too many of them. The basketball kids had good tactics, and I was ganged up on, and got out early 2 games in a row.

At this point, the wins were tied 2-2. It was the rubber match, and everyone was out for blood. As much as our counterparts on the courts respected us, it seemed as if we wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with them. I certainly did, I was out for blood, but my shoulder was starting to give.

Sweat pours down my face, I whip my hair to the side and wipe my brow. The whistle blows and I sprint like a bat out of hell towards the dodgeballs set up on the line. I grabbed it and look back. Our team has 3 balls, and the basketball boys have 3 balls. Rubber match indeed.

The basketball kids took aim first. WHAMMM! SLAAAAAP! Two teammates down for the count. Now a four on six match. The basketball kids began to cry out towards victory. I line up, eyes wide open, screaming for blood. WHOOOOOSH! Almost took that cro-magnons head off. He turns to me, wide-eyed, praying to the gene pool gods that he still has a head attached to that overgrown body.

I turn and grab another ball. Our teammates catch one ball. YOUR OUT!! screams the referee to the basketball boys. Five on four. I huck one to the other side of the court, as it sails high over his head. Damn.

The whistle blows two more times, as the Space Jam monsters began looming on the other side of the court, Two left, just Joe and I. The screams of the cheerleaders that have now spawned together behind the basketball boys are like crows circling over soon to be dead prey. Volleyball girls assemble to watch the final strikes of the game.

Once again, I wipe the sweat off my face, lungs feeling heavy, adrenaline pumping like never before. Here is my moment to take out all the anger I can. This is my shot against the 'the man'  and hierarchy of people that play sports in high schools and colleges across the country. My defining moment as the most athletic comeback of a non-athletic kid against real athletes!

SWOOOOSH! For a second I look down and Joe is dead. The look of defeat, pain and pity rolled into one glares at me. He slams his fist and rolls off the court. I crouch down with a ball, Wind-up and huck. Nothing.

I'm out of breath, and the slow-motion that ensues was epic. (As pictured in my head) Much like the scene in 300 when Leonidas sees the giant monster with the axe, I'm wide-eyed. A ball is sailing directly toward my thigh, The only move I had was to lift my leg in time.

It's my bad leg, and within the same second I hear the cries of victory from across the court. I let my team down. We lost. More importantly, we lost out on free champion t-shirts. The smell of defeat creeps in. Maybe next year kid. The high-fives begin, and despite the bitter feeling a large amount of mutual respect is felt among all the players.


Damn, I live for this.