Thursday, December 10, 2009
For some reason my 3rd grade gym teacher always selected me to be a ref instead of a participant in sports. He'd divide out class into four groups of five students to play two games of basketball, and he'd ref one and toss me a whistle and say, "Here Rocky, you ref the other one." This baffled me since I didn't know the rules of basketball. I'd blow the whistle, everyone would look at me, and then I'd invent a foul and give the ball to the other team. No-handsies-to-the-face, or something like that. The gym teacher displayed questionable judgment in his private life as well. After two years of us seeing him with pure white hair, he arrived at class with a suave brown color. I'm pretty sure he assumed that kids wouldn't notice things like that, but here I am 21 years later writing about it. Our class erupted into such a ruckus upon seeing his hair that our regular teacher had to come in and calm us down. That poor guy was probably getting it all day.