Adolescent Memories

Cooking pork chops this evening reminded me of when I was about 12 or 13 years old. I had a nickname of Pork Chop for a few months.

Somehow or another, there came to be a neighborhood group of adults that got together and formed a few things for us youngsters to do outside of the summer break from school. Don’t know what it was for the females but it was basketball for us males.

I sort of knew the rules of the game, so was invited to join up with the squad being formed. My mother must have okayed it since she figured I couldn’t get hurt, too much. After all, the game consists of running back and forth and making a score.

Winning was not part of what my squad did. We’d play against the other local teams that knew a whole lot more about playing the game than we did. Plus they all were a foot taller than us and older or it seemed. I’m sure some went on to play pro ball or joined the Harlem Globetrotters the following year.

Our coach, bless his heart, promised us an ice cream treat at the local Dairy Queen if we won a game. That whole, long, drawn out season, my team never had ice cream, ever. I don’t remember the scores but if we got one basket that whole season, it was a fluke.

I don’t remember ever making a basket. Even in practice.

So, one night we are having a late dinner. My dad must have come home late so we were still eating when the ride showed up for the game that night. I dashed out of the house with part of the night’s dinner in my hand, a pork chop.

From then on I was known as Pork Chop. I’m 5’nothing, weigh 100nothing and have mostly elbows and knees as my physical makeup. Being an adolescent sucks.

I'd rather be a cowboy

Time past, slowly. The summer came to an end.

Fortunately the neighborhood helpful adults figured they were spinning their wheels with the skinny kids and called an end to the basketball sport. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief, most of all, me.

My respite from organized sports went into a hatis for a year or so then I began high school. Football guys were the hero’s and gods that lived among us mortals. Even as a freshman, I could see where the road to riches laid. Tryout’s for the junior varsity football team came about and I signed up.

Passed the physical test with ease, gathered my pads, helmet, sweat shit and socks and posed oh so confidently for a photo. First skirmish I get myself spiked up the calf by a guy a big as a moving van. I’m not a whole lot bigger than when I was playing at basketball so the encounter was not good for me.

(I think the coach knew I was no good and that is why he assigned me to the position of right guard)

Turned in my football gear and called it an end to my sports career. The following year I did join the swimming team and excelled at that sport. Never won a gold medal but finished first more than once.

Later on in life, I picked up a sword and have never looked back. A sport that I actually excelled at. Won a couple of tournaments and taught some people how to fence.

I hope the adolescent females that joined whatever the adults had for them, made something of it and went on to greater and more interesting things.