Man Show

Wow. I have a high respect for Mr. Elzinga now. Today we were playing football in gym. Jacqui, Seyi and I were on a team with Mark, Tyler and Chris. Mark wasn’t so bad, but Tyler especially would rather eat the darn football and run to the end zone with it than pass it to a girl, which really makes me mad. All three of us could be wide open and he’d pass it to a heavily-guarded guy. I’ll grant him this: There’s a considerable chance that we’d drop the ball if he passed it to us, but frankly, there’s more chance of us catching it than the guy with four players from the other team guarding him. And when it all comes down to it, it’s just a game. They make a feeble attempt to make some show-stopping play, miss the ball completely, and end up making themselves look like overflowing testosterone buckets that can’t even play the game—when they could just pass to a girl. It probably would have the same effect score-wise, but at least they’d come out looking chivalrous, if nothing else. Anyway, my respect for Mr. Elzinga. All of a sudden he yells, ‘Boys, drop and give me twenty!’ Collective ‘What?! Why!?’ from them, to which Elzinga replies, ‘You’re putting on a freaking man-show out there. Pass to the girls.’ I smiled.