Old School Ode #5 - Field Day

For being a child so completely unsuited for (and uninterested in) athletic activity, I loved the concept of Field Day. However, for having such a strong feeling, I have surprisingly few specific memories. But they are strong. They are of the obstacle course and construction paper winner's ribbons. Perhaps this is because I won a ribbon or two in the obstacle course.

There is something inherently awesome about the obstacle course. Not the Army or Battle of the Network Stars style, where the feats are still based in athletic achievement. But playground style, where the more ridiculous the task the better the course. Run over there, spin around seven times, and run (without falling down or throwing up) over to that place over there to limbo under an impossibly low broomstick, skip hard to the pogo stick, bounce three times, put on a pair of men's pants, fill them up with blown-up balloons, and head for the finish line.

Good times.

I was reminded of all this because I passed by West Broad School this afternoon and there was no doubt today was field day. All I could pick out as I tried to slow down and take it all in, was a race involving hippity-hops and another activity involving copious amounts of tennis balls. Had I not had a time schedule to keep, I surely would have turned back to check it out more thoroughly.

And just last week, when I was over visiting my friend Brooke across the street, her son Ely asked if I wanted to watch him go through the obstacle course he had just finished assembling. Of course I did. His dad agreed to participate. The first "obstacle" was crawling under a A-frame thing just big enough to fit a small eight-year-old boy. This did not deter Steve, who immediately uprooted the thing and flattened his son in an attempt to gain some leverage. Ely eventually wiggled his way free, ran a few circles around some pylons, putted a golf ball into a cup, and came across the finish line.

It was ridiculously beautiful.