I wasn’t an athletic sorta kid. But I was smart, which usually meant being a grade ahead of most kids my age. Puny, that was my norm. The part when kids picked other kids to be on their team was torture for me. If there was a minus zero draft pick, it woulda been me.
I found a way to make myself a volatile threat to any scoring pattern and my popularity sky rocketed. Moved up to second pick in no time at all. I developed an array of tricks to stop the opposition from scoring.
Like what? I was so short I could get underneath the ball nestled in their arm and punch it out and throw it to someone on my team. I’d pants a player (pull pants down to their ankles) so they’d trip and fumble. Every once in a while I’d log roll right at ‘em and watch them tumble. Left zero evidence. No one saw anything. I got in and out with the greatest of ease and my team would win, though they really didn’t understand how.
“We want the short kid,” they’d say.
Regardless that nobody knew my name, my popularity soared. Sadly, football season only gets you through to Thanksgiving. After that I went back to leftover status once basketball season started. Height’s pretty integral in that one. I did a lot of running around and intruding on the opposition’s strategy. It sorta stirred the pot, not nearly enough as the football antics. They should come up with a sport that favors little people. There’s always Curling, but I’d fall asleep. It’s boring as f*ck. If Limbo goes professional, count me in.
Icy Hot patches and send me in.
Being short isn’t all bad news. I can strike a deal on clothes in the boy’s department, provided I lay low on the carbs for a few days.
I used to get into a ton of VIP parties in college. My height flew right under the radar (and under the belly of the bouncers) and I’d concoct these fake badges that would say: NY TIMES PRESS.
Ya really don’t know what you can get away with until you look around and assess the average IQ.
I went to Tokyo a few years ago. Shockingly, I was one of the tallest people there.