The Greatest Game Ever Played

In Grade 9, one day during lunchbreak, I stumbled across a sign-up sheet for a dodgeball tournament. Anyone who knows me well is aware that this sport runs in my blood. Thusly, I got some of my friends and we all signed up. Teams were randomly generated as to prevent stocking of the best players together. Good fortune smiled on me as I ended up on the same team as my elite friend Michel Anderson.
Before I go any further, I have to explain the style of dodgeball that was played in this intra-mural tournament. There was one ball, and the bounds were delimited by painted lines (so you could step out anywhere around your team's territory). Additionally, the dead players from one team were sent to the cow position, which is the area behind the enemy's territory. It was kind of like a mutual pincer attack in the gallant theatre of dodgeball war.

With the teams decided and the schedule up, it was only days before Michel and I excitedly showed up to our first game. It was an embarrassment for me. On one of the very first plays, I attempted a cocky Ball Protect maneuver in which my trajectory was completely perpendicular to the ball's flight. A Ball Protect is a jumping catch meant to intercept a lob from the enemy territory to the cow line. I was in such a bad position that the ball bounded off my arms. I was sent to my cow line for the rest of the match. Ah... the arrogance of youth.

The tournament went on and my team ranked fairly highly. In the Round Robin qualifier, we only recorded one or two losses. We trudged our way through teams in the eliminations and made it to the Finals. We were to play the only undefeated team in the league. On that fateful day, Michel and I went to the changeroom to put on our gym clothes. Something was not right. We were the only ones from our team in the changeroom. With only a few minutes left before the start of the final match, I bid Michel to stay and buy us time while I scrounged around the school for our teammates. They were only distant acquaintances to which we barely ever spoke. This made finding them difficult. The people that I did find were not very enthusiastic. Ungrateful cretins- to abandon the team at the finals. Dodgeball, to them, must have been a mere pleasantry that was running thin. With no more time to spare, I returned to the gym alone.

Michel and I huddled quickly, as the referees were getting impatient. Our strategy was simple enough. Michel would go to the cow line (a player must temporarily go there until someone dies and takes his place). I would stay in the territory. There was as lot on the line for me. I had to redeem my honour after an arrogant, disgraceful performance at the tournament. "Be smart," I told myself, "only Ball Protect when you can, catch the easy balls, only perform dodges with quick recovery time." It was now or never if I was to prove myself to the world- dodgeball does run in my blood. The referees gave Michel and I first possession. It was a courtesy, and I took it as a blessing.
Michel and I are very good at passing. Our shots are at the head level and very fast so Ball Protecting against them is difficult. This had to be the key to our play. Whenever we had possession, an enemy ultimately perished.

On the other hand, when the enemy had possession, I stuck to the basics and played smart. When the enemy cow would have the ball, I would try to draw a shot to the outside of the territory so that Michel could gain possession. The match raged on and the enemy's forces were depleting. I remember the last shot of the game vividly. Sweat was dripping from my forehead and my legs were getting heavy. There had to be a decisive move soon or I would be too exhausted to play effectively. With ball in hand, I got all the momentum I could muster and let rip. I aimed at head-height, but over the shoulder. The last player (Eric Fleury, a year older than me) went for a chicken-wing style catch, but he didn't succeed. The ball bounced off and flew high into the wall of the gym. The win was ours. The enemy couldn't believe it. Michel and I pulled off the upset I knew we were destined to perform. Some of our closest friends witnessed the game from the stands. They flew down the stands and drowned us champions in great cheer.

I then went to the changeroom to turn back into my normal life. On my way out, the tournament coordinator stopped Michel and I. She had a grocery bag and said, "You can have one each." We both reached into the grocery bag and pulled out a chocolate bar. It tasted so sweet, not only because it was 100% milk chocolate, but because I knew no one would ever play such good dodgeball ever again.

Pat (Dude)