Trouble in School: part 10

By now you might be tired of reading about my troubles in school. I understand, but keep in mind, I don’t need nor want cheese with my whine. But whine isn’t a good word for my words – I have no real complaints; I wasn’t the only one. Some readers may even know of those about whom I speak, and remember something like, that’s how I remember him/her too.

Junior high school gym class was not a good experience for me. I got a D in seventh but improved to a C in eighth grade. I don’t remember my junior high teachers, but with Mr. Hdcoach as the high school PE teacher, I somehow managed to get a B.

I didn’t like PE class in high school. Even in no contact activities I managed to be in the way of one or more of the teacher’s favorites. They ranked from star athletes, kids of the local social elite, teachers’ kids, and down from there. My only real positive was consistently being second or third to the eraser throwers in foot races I mentioned in part 5.

Rope climb was my least favorite activity. But I did learn using my feet to grip the rope took pressure off my arms, so I made it to the top for the test and managed to have enough grip left to make it down. Many others did the bare hand burn going down to avoid falling. Oh, the only padding on the gym floor was a three-inch mat from the wall behind the baseline on the basketball court. I was among the few who made it up and down the rope. And perhaps I should not have asked Mr. Hdcoach, “Why is climbing a rope to twenty feet above the gym floor an important skill?”

We were usually outside as much as possible during fall and spring seasons, Mr. Hdcoach seemed to have little concern about keeping kids outside in most inclement weather. One spring day it must have been very bad outside because we had an inside activity. Perhaps there was an order from the principal because I doubt that he would have brought us in even if there was lightning.

I was a freshman, and another freshman, the starting JV fullback, gave me a little shove. I thought it was good natured jostling and did the same to him. He hit me on the chest hard enough to make me stumble backward and fall. By the time I recovered and said, “What did you do that for?” Mr. Hdcoach was there asking what happened. The high on his list jock said I had shoved him, and ignored my, “He shoved first.”

I thought it was over until the coach gave me a very hard swat on my bare buttocks during shower time with a shortened shaft canoe paddle.
In those days a report from a student would have been disregarded and the student would be labeled a whiner or pantywaist.
What teen boy wants that label?