Teams were being picked.
What side to choose, what side has a better chance of winning?
I picked the side that looked most like me, finding the familiar friendly
Backs to the wall, waiting for the whistle to blow
Then a mad dash to the centerline, to try and grab a ball
Use it against my opponent, or use it as a shield?
Unsure I looked to my teammates for inspiration and direction.
“Crush your opponent, throw your ball!!! Be brave, come on!
Get in the game, we’re counting on you!! If they catch it, you’re out, but at least you tried!”
“Keep your ball to deflect your opponents ball!!! Be smart, come on!
Stay in the game, let’s wait and watch what happens to the others.
If they get out, well, at least we’re still here!”
My summer version of Dodge ball is COVID-19 ~ the balls represent facial masks and the teams
consist of my neighbors, friends, family and strangers.
If someone isn’t wearing a mask, I feel like I’m facing a dodge ball opponent.
“Duck and weave, stop drop and roll, Katrina, watch it, watch it, back up, smile, but back up.”
Getting the virus might not kill me, but it most certainly will hurt me.
I don’t want to get hurt; I don’t want you to get hurt, hurting sucks, so I’m doing what I can to not
contribute to the growing mountain of hurt in America
A cloud of compliancy has descended, “The question isn’t if I’ll get it, it’s how sick I’ll get when I do?”
When I first heard someone say that, I was shocked, now I hear it a lot.
So, for the first time in my life, I want to sit on the bench and for me that’s a huge
statement. I’ve always been in the mix of things, the loudest front line female on the team.
But I pray everyday that the coach doesn’t call me up, “Curtiss, you’re up, come on, go take one for the team!”
If I have to, if it makes a difference, I’ll go, but if it doesn’t, I’m continue to sit out this year’s season of Dodge Ball.