Handball

Disclaimer: This is not an entry about fisting.

I’m sure by now most of you are aware I was a massive nerd during my formative years. Now I’m an artist, which is quasi cool, but I’m still pretty much a big nerd. Anyway, as a nerd, I never did very well in P.E. That’s PhysEd. I suppose I got used to the constant horrors of competive education. I was weaker, therefore I was the loser.

In high school we had all become friends with each other. The nerds, the outcasts, anyone who didn’t fit in. We were pals and had grand adventures and dramas. And we all sucked at P.E.

Anyway, one strange day we were all on a team against some of the most popular girls in the school when we learned of a wonderous new sport.

Handball.

We were light on our feet and nimble, making passes effortlessly and getting goal after goal after goal.

We kicked serious handball ass.

Why handball, I don’t know. But I was disappointed when we didn’t get to play handball the next class. It felt good to finally win. We were all really quiet about the whole thing, and at one point I even wondered if we had kicked ass. Then my friend Heather said “Remember that day we played handball and kicked ass!”

Yes Heather, I still remember it.

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