I remember a 6th grade broom ball game. Our small rural school (Jumbo Gardens ) played an even smaller rural school (5 Mile). I was a shy, alienated kid who was teacher's pet but humiliated on a daily basis by my classmates. We were not an athletic school. A few days before the match, we had our first practice. To my and everyone else s utter surprise, the game brought out reserves of aggression, speed and strength that no-one else, including me, knew were in me. I scored the only goal in practice and got some of the first kind words from peers in my elementary school career.
On the day of the game, I was on fire. I scored 4 goals in the first quarter. The other team had none. I was a little embarrassed when I realized I had cross checked a very nice girl right into the spectators. I helped her up. I wasn't penalized because the other team was hacking at my ankles with their broomsticks in a futile effort to bring me down.
After the 4th goal, the coach pulled me out of the game. I couldn't figure out what I had done wrong but I was partially relieved that I no longer had to make such heroic efforts. The game ended 4-0.
It remains one of the few bright spots in my childhood. I was walking on air. The coach prevented a blowout. The other school had some solace in the fact that they were as good (or as bad) as the others on the team.
It wasn't until I read these postings that I finally understand, 30 plus years later, why I was pulled out of the game.
PS - I'm old - I'm allowed to tell long boring stories from back in the day. :wink: