When I sit back and look at my athletic career I guess I have to take the good with the bad. I was always good enough to make the team and in a few sports I was good enough to be pretty decent in. There were some really great highlights to my athletic career like being moved up to Junior Varsity Soccer in eighth grade or scoring a big goal in Hockey. Of course with the good come the bad and since the good aren’t as entertaining as the bad I give to you the lowlights of my athletic career.
I used to play basketball at my friends house a lot. We would have dunkball tournaments all the time and even filmed a few to make highlight tapes with. (This explains why I didn’t get laid until after my sophomore year of high school.) Over a two-year period we had to play hundreds of games there, maybe even thousands. Out of all that time nothing bad ever happened there until one day when I threw a pass that was so far off kilter that it went through the front living room window of my friends house. Thus leading his parents to invest in a window guard dubbed the “Kevin protector”. It was the first time I have ever had an object named after me.
Runner Up: I hit a shot in a summer league game where the referee turned to my teams benched and with a scrunched up face say, “that was the ugliest basket I have ever seen.”
In youth hockey the big thing was when you got to the age where you could jump over the boards to get onto the ice. I was always really sheepish about doing it because I always landed slightly awkward. Finally it had come to a point where I had to do it because I didnt want to be the only kid not hoping the boards. I was doing okay and hadnt run into any issues until one game my skate caught the overhang of the boards causing me to flip while going onto the ice where I landed headfirst. Not only did they have to stop the game but next week in practice I had to practice going over the boards.
My junior year I was jawing with the third baseman on my baseball team while taking batting practice. On our last pitch we had to run the bases. After unleashing one of the greatest smart-ass lines ever on him about his opposite field power I took my final cut. (You really had to be there, recounting it in here would not do it justice.) I rifled a ball into left field and took one step where I proceeded to slip on home plate and falling flat on my face. Making me look like an even bigger douche bag and totally destroying any credibility to my smart-ass remark that I previously leveled.
Runner up: At the awards banquet for my summer league team one year where I had probably my worst hitting performance ever the entire team was given a trophy for finishing in first place. Well except me, they forgot to name me while my trophy sat on stage and me in my chair. Good times.
Runner up number 2: The only way I made the local newspaper with my baseball exploits my senior year in high school was to get hit twice in the same game in the same spot. I still have that article that talked about me taking two beanings, I am such a stud.
I was pretty damn good at soccer growing up. I was playing sweeper in a game that was rather important for our summer league standings during the summer between seventh and eighth grade. After our goalie made an important save I turned to run up field and await his kick. I started to run but changed directions to avoid a huge pothole like divot in the field. When I changed direction I cut right in front of our fat and impatient goalie that at the same time was drop kicking the ball. Of course the ball railed me in the back of my head and floated into our own goal, costing us the game.
So there you have it. The lowlights of my athletic career, good times every single one. Wednesday will be the story of one of the greatest events ever. The infamous feces-throwing incident that forever scared a generation of baseball players.