Wednesday, August 10, 2011

I am an Ogre

There are times when I don't like being a gigantic creature.

On the basketball court, it's something to be proud of. Snatching rebounds away from smaller runts, or using my weight to push big men out of the paint while defending, but when my focus isn't about tossing a spherical ball into a hoop, my size is not one of my most satisfying qualities.

When I was in junior high, there would be times when my rowdy friends and I would keep our mouths jabbing like your classic annoying little punks. Only after so much banter, my 7th grade gym teacher, a bulky monster whose claim to fame was that he had played third-string quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys back in the day when football had just been created would bark out,

“Hey! Do you boys have a problem?”

Hesitantly we would all shake our heads back in fear to him.

“Well you’re gonna have one in a minute that’s 6’3” and 280 pounds if you don’t shut up!” he would yell back.

And yes, at the time I could only imagine what kind of problem it would be if the mammoth would unleash his terror upon us. But as I grew up emotionally, physically, and literally, I have come to realize what the much bigger problem is (pun intended); managing the size that I am, much similar to my gigantic gym teacher of ages back.

Balance is probably one of the main things that I struggle with being as big as I am. I remember the first few times that I made futile attempts at conquering what the world calls snowboarding. I cannot describe how embarrassed I was when my 15-year old little sister was beating me down the slopes as I stumbled, tripped, and rolled down the hill in a massive snowball. I kept my balance about as well as Charlie Sheen stays out of trouble. For being as big as I was it made it difficult to stay on my feet longer than 4.7 seconds, meanwhile little Lunchbox sat in the snow a few feet below me shaking her head in disgust. The divots would get larger and grander while my butt cheeks got number and raw.

Lunchbox: “You know you’re pretty big when you have to put snow back in the hole that your butt makes when you fall.”

I said thanks and then felt even bigger as she zoomed down the hill even faster in front of me without falling.

One of the main issues with my size however is how I don't fit anywhere. Front seats, back seats, movie seats, on bicycles, around campfires, in embryos, heck, I don't even fit in my own bed. I look like the character in ‘One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish’ whose feet hang off the end while his cranium pokes through the headboard. People mock me for being an anti-midget. I pray that an incredibly large self-esteem comes with the physically issued body I have.

Yes, I can change light bulbs without standing on four chairs, and no I don't have to sit on a phonebook or two when parking at the dinner table, so maybe being as big as I am really isn't as bad as it sounds. But when I am on a date and have to bend over, while the girl I'm with has to stand on four chairs and an encyclopedia just to get a goodnight kiss, yeah, I would say that is the epitome of awfulness of being Goliath.

I just hope that she's going in for a kiss rather than trying to slay me with a slingshot.

What do you think?


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