The whole point of organized sports that are thrust upon our lowly backs? There is none. Our weak immune system and soul are forced into tireless activities we should “enjoy”. But it usually turns out we like them. (if you’ve read any books) But back to reality. Instead of freely letting us become who we are (but still setting some restrictions) parents think organized sports is the answer to everything. It is most certainly not.

I for one do not enjoy any activity that requires screaming girls hollering for you to get the ball, and when you try and fail they backtalk you forever until the next game, in which they hope you would redeem yourself. Which you know is never going to happen. So while our brilliant minds are focused into small unremorseful activities, our genius is deprived from us since it is decaying and rotting in our unsocial able heads.

But it isn’t that bad. There are a few (sparingly, yet a few) perks about being in a sport. You may actually find that you enjoy it, despite all the nasty looks you’ve thrown your mother. Sometimes you just have to give it a chance, and the result can be either very satisfying or utter loss and disappointment.

Me, you woefully ask? Ah, I am being forced to pick a sport and embarrass myself while popular onlookers laugh their Abercrombie pants off. But I do play the very lame sport of ping-pong (no it is not beer pong; I am not “one of the guys”) well enough that I get some sort of exercise from it. I do not approve of your mother if she is forcing you into a sport, but really, sometimes they are right; we need more exercise and it doesn’t include reading Sports Illstrated or Around the World in 80 Days. It is so sad, yet in life, so true.

So all I’m saying is to try any new matter and if it’s suitable, go on. If not, tell your parent (the one who pushed you into this “recreation”) or just suck it up. Either way, you’ll have to live it down.