In school, we boys went through a phase of playing triangle football. Carefully fold a piece of notebook paper along the solid red margin line, lightly wet with your tongue, rip it straight and true, then fold over and over as a triangle. Clear tape or masking tape was used to clad the shape, and the tighter the better.
This was a fun lunchtime activity that aggravated the teachers, but they tolerated it as it was non-destructive!
OH YEAH!!! I
loved that one! It's how I actually finally learned the rules of the friggin' game that I now love more than anything ... except baseball. But, I digress.
Actually, allow me to digress a moment here because I think it may also strike a chord with the over 40 crowd.
So, you remember that thing they used to call P.E.? Anyone remember what the "E" stood for? Education, right? Does anyone ever remember getting any "education" during that class?
I ask for this reason: not unlike others on this BBS, I suspect, I was a teenage geek (and latent homosexual, but I submit that that is actually irrelevant to this discussion, no matter how much popular myth may argue otherwise.) I had a wonderful father who had been a Jock and sports nut as a kid and young man but who also worked 3 jobs to support his family most of the first 15 years of my life. Thus, he simply never had time to teach me any sports, no matter how much he might have liked to (would have liked to, I later learned.) Consequently, I simply never learned the most basic rules of football or baseball or basketball, hard as that may be to believe. I went into my "physical education" classes expecting to learn these rules, as we did in math and reading, etc. But, no -- at least in MY experience, there was NO teaching of the rules. Boys were simply expected to know the rules, and if you didn't you were teased and called all sorts of unsavory names (faggot being prime among them). The few times I asked for to be directed to ways I might learn the rules I was equally ridiculed. Once I finally learned the G-d D-mn rules to the M*ther F*cking games, I actually was quite good at them. And how did I begin learning the rules? Through that silly little paper football game. Thank God for paper football. Amen, and that's all folks.
Okay, rant over.
Moving on ....
But I still have an unnatural affection for that game.
A friend and I used to blow up G.I. Joe dolls (the ones that were like a foot tall, mind you) with firecrackers. We'd put them in the middle of the street, with fireworks attached, and leggo.
Oh yeah, a friend and I did the same thing. But, even more than that, we loved those little molded plastic 2" army men. We'd set up elaborate "minefields" of firecrackers and then set our armies up in equally elaborate patterns. The game was to toss more firecrackers and lighted wooden matches into the throng of army men to blow up as many as you could and/or ignite the exposed fuses of the buried firecrackers to set off even more "fun". And there were also the firecrackers we's attach to the little army men who had those plastic "parachutes"; light the firecracker and throw the army man into the air; watch him float gently toward the ground until ... BOOM!!!!
We were evil little boys.
I sort of got over that game, though, when my "army man friends" started adding BBQ lighter fluid to the mix.
