Basically, we can do everything on the Internet. Particularly at this school, the great land of the Macintosh, our lives are shaped by the words of the web; we register online, receive class assignments online and hold conversations online.
Certainly, I used to not only dread the emergence of this cold, impersonal cyber-world, but also used to fight it quite passionately. Now, however, I wonder why the progress is stagnating " we've got to keep it moving.
You see, rather than worry about what bad things may come, I think we should take advantage of what technology can offer; let's have a little fun with the Internet. Let's offer P.E. on the web.
Really, I don't understand why this isn't an option. I don't understand why those of us who found out long ago that we could not flourish under militaristic coaches or as parts of spirit-filled, family-like teams can't just fulfill our requirements from our desk chairs.
They let politically correct middle school kids who disagree with animal experimentation dissect virtual frogs rather than live ones. So how about letting us do virtual aerobics if we disagree with the wearing of spandex.
Perhaps creating these virtual games would spark an interest in real sports. Learning this lesson from the always-prophetic "Seinfeld," we can take our cue from George, who, after conquering the arcade game of Frogger, became a human frog, battling his way across busy streets.
I thought about suggesting these ideas to the people in the Physical Education Department, but I figured it might not go over very well. So instead, I asked what would be done if someone just happened to forget to go to every P.E. class " could he or she pay a fine that would still give them credit for completing the course?
"No," the P.E. person told me. "I don't think that's possible, but I have never heard that question before." Amazing, I thought, while a couple of very athletic gym-goers glared in my direction.
Thus unable to buy our P.E. credits, a friend and I signed up for table tennis. Yes, we were pretty nervous and apprehensive, but we also saw it as a chance to experience that obviously wonderful, mystical feeling that people find upon entering the enigmatic world of the gym.
Struggling to make ourselves at home in the athletic world from which we had been banished several years ago, we decided to create for ourselves some very adorable table tennis uniforms. Needless to say, the retailers did not appreciate our giddy excitement and laughter over our cute little socks and matching sweatbands. No, they really didn't appreciate it at all.
And I don't think the other Table Tennis Club members did either; they really did not seem jealous or impressed when we jogged into our first class with our Dartmouth water bottles and T-shirts. Actually, I think they kind of forgot about us for awhile, as we sat on a trunk along the side of the gym, waiting to be called up to a table.
But they soon remembered us, as we, the lone trunkwarmers, ventured up to our very own table tennis table, tripping over a volleyball net pole on the way. We played with great concentration and dedication the entire time, getting as much as we could out of our first Saturday evening table tennis session.
And I suppose we did learn a few things. We learned that instead of saying "Seven to seven" or "Seven all" when calling out the score, table tennis players just say "Sevens." We learned that uniforms and water bottles are not necessary for such a sport. And of course, we learned that saying "Ping-Pong" is almost as politically incorrect as dissecting a frog.
But as we left the gym, passing people we knew on our walk through campus Saturday night, I also learned that real athletes don't say things like, "We were just playing table tennis. That's why we're dressed like this." It really can make friendly encounters kind of embarrassing.
And thus, I felt my earlier prediction had been confirmed: I am not a true athlete. Sure, I like sports and games and jogging on occasion, but I'm just not the kind of person who should be enrolled in a class or a club sport. I will only embarrass myself and make the others uncomfortable. And I know there are plenty more like me out there.
So athletic department people, I beg of you, quit putting us through the embarrassing torment. Quit making us pretend to be people we're not. Quit showcasing our lack of grace and coordination.
And put P.E. on the Internet. (Either that or create a fine we can pay for missing too many classes that will still give us credit.) Thanks.
