Dodgeball

Well, Saturday night, the Otter Creek singles hosted a dodgeball tournament to raise money for a team that is going to England for a mission trip this fall. I was going to meet up with some friends to pay the $3 spectator fee and go watch. Of course people had attempted to get us girls to play, as a team requirement is that there is at least one member from each gender. But I laughed in their face when they asked me to play. Apparently I don't come across as uncoordinated as I actually am. So I am rushing to get ready, and I get this phone call at 5:40 (the tournament begins at 6:00). It's a friend, David. He begins begging, with no shame, for me to play. He tried to flatter me by telling me I was their first choice, but I called his bluff. After 10 minutes of him begging and of a rousing reindition of "Sweet Caroline," which he and his roomates sang to try to persuade me, I was a sucker and said yes. I mean, it was to benefit the Lord's work, so I couldn't really say no. (There's a willing spirit for you). Once it was settled that I was playing, I said, "So what are you guys wearing?" Mary Pullias thought this was hillarious. I just didn't want to show up in athletic clothes if they were just gonna be in jeans or whatever. It's all about coordinating with your teammates. And I'd like to give a shoutout to all my girl friends who supported me and didn't laugh their heads off that I had to play. Yeah right. MP and Lea couldn't stop laughing. And when I was walking towards the locker room all my friends were yelling at me and I just looked at them and said, "I don't want to talk about it."

So our team has apparently been named, "Caroline and the Top Guns." There are seven on our team. All guys who are all athletic and look like they know what they are doing. And then there's me. We had to walk out through dry ice smoke and to music, and all the guys were walking out looking all smooth and here I come, coughing and heaving because I can't breath in dry ice. Nice. Graceful.

So the game starts, and I had one strategy: To stand in the back right hand corner, stay inbounds, and dodge balls. All other girls that played moved, but I did not. I did not move unless a ball came towards me. I did not reach to get a ball. I did not move from one end of the court to another. I planted my feet in one place. My friend Bart told me I looked like I was paralyzed with fear. He was yelling, "Come on Caroline! Let's move a little!" But I just smiled and politely waved them off. I did not fall to peer pressure, I kept my feet planted in my righthand corner. And then this ball came rolling towards me. And it was me and two other guys left. And I gave in. I threw the ball. Like the girl that I am. And of course the other team caught it. That means your out. But I didn't realize he had caught it, because as soon as I threw it I had to dodged this cannon so I lost track of where my ball had gone. I heard the crowd say, "OHHHHH" and I honestly thought they were impressed with my dodging skills because I was so agile and had avoided this tough ball that had just come barreling at me at 50 mph. But apparently they were saying, "OHHHHHH" because I was out. I was oblivious to this. So I was just standing there, smiling, all happy and impressed with myself and my dodging abilities. I was even thinking about yelling, "Ha! Bring it man! Did you see that dodge? I'm not as homey as I look, yo!" Thankfully I didn't start talking smack, because I realized the ref was yelling at me, and had been for a while, and she notified me that I was out. So I had to take the walk of shame to the bench. I had to ask a member of my team why I was out, because I KNEW I had dodged that ball and it had knicked my shirt but didn't get me. He informed me that my girl throw got caught. (He was nice and didn't call it a girl throw), thus, retiring my career in dodgeball.