Field Day

        It's the morning of Friday, the nineteenth of June.  Today is the one of those rare days that I actually wake up on time for.  Today is a special exception (and special exceptions are hard to come by when it involves me having to set my alarm clock).  Today was Field Day!

        For other schools, Field Day, or whatever you might call it, is boring.  Well, not for Long Bay Middle School.  Actually, it's not quite the activities we do that are so fun.  It's the behavior of all us kids. 

        What I mean is this: Have you ever had some kids in your school that are very social or unshy? My school does.  Being so comfortable around the teachers, making remarks and acting fresh.  That's the laugh-your-head-off fun in store for us each year.  And all the kids who cause it darn well know that, so they change it up every Field Day until they graduate and go to Short Bay High School.  But I have to admit, some activities are fun, too.  Not to mention that some few teachers are hilarious and play along with the jokesters in the school. 

        I am a few yards away from the seventh grade entrance about to finish my walk to school when I notice something.  Where's my friends? Coming to realize it, where's my GRADE?

Oh great.  Now I have to walk about the costrophobic halls and look for everyone.  My watch says 7:55.  Does no one get that I'm not a morning person?

        It's 8:05.  I've roamed just about every inch of the school except for the gymnasium.  You and I both know where this is probably heading.  I round the hallway corner and what do I hear? "WHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" and "YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" and all these other words I can't spell.  Apparently they're having a PEP RALLY.  That's new.  I guess the new fifth graders are next to spiritless.  Either that or they can't take the new fifth grade substitute.  I hear his classroom is painted black with dark paint backwashes all over the walls.  Actually, I even saw it.  Wasn't pretty.  My grade would probably be gloomy too if we were still in fifth grade.

        The four grades were split into 12 teams each.  Mt team was first assigned the station "Egg Toss".  That's the one were we have freaky large spoons to pass and catch an egg with a partner.  Fun.  I always dropped mine. 

        When our group got outside, a few boys suggested that we should have a team name.

        "I think it should be, 'The Killer Spiders'!" said one boy.

        "No, more like, 'The Jumping Jacks'!" said another.

        The JUMPING JACKS? At least the Killer Spiders one sounded COMPETITIVE.  How do they think up of this stuff?

        Then a girl spoke up.  "How about the 'Unsalted Cornmeal Slices'?"

        "Yeah, let's do that one!" The boys chorused together.

        Don't I get a say in our name?  I wish I had a more sensible group...

        The day past unusually longer this time.  Maybe because this year, I was an Unsalted Cornmeal Slice.  But it finally came to the end of the day, the part where everyone waits with bated breaths for the results.  The school sits with their teams under a sign that had their team number on it. We were team 34, although someone crossed it out with a sharpie pen and wrote our ridiculous name above it.  My friend was in the team sitting next to ours, and she saw it so she leaned over and whispered, "Is that REALLY your team name?"

        "Unfortunately," I replied.

        She shot a, "Seriously?" look at me and I said, "Whatever ANYONE asks you, I did NOT have ANYTHING to do with that name!"

        Big mistake on me.  The hosting teachers of Field Day were already giving the results when they saw me chatting and said my nickname.

        "Misty, why don't you come up here and make "The Shot"?"

        Uh oh.  Today was a Field Day when all grades added up all their teams' points to come to a four-way tie.  This is where The Shot comes in.  One random person from the crowd, which happened to be me today because of my big mouth, takes a frisbee and throws it in an incredibly small hoop.  Out of the history of Field Day, 1 out of 11 shots made it.  Now the whole school was watching me walk up and take the frisbee from the hosting teacher's hand.  No pressure. 

        One, two, three, SHOOT! I told myself as I was taking my position to throw.  I'm definitely gonna miss this.  I'm only the worst frisbee thrower ever. 

        Okay, just like I rehearsed, step one.............................................two..............................................

        ......I never made it to three.  I tripped on my shoelace and the frisbee went flying out of my hands.  I lay on the floor, unwilling to watch what was happening.  The school, including the monotonous teachers, perked up to the edge of their seats to observe the outcome of my "throw".

        The next thing I knew, the seventh grade was swarming around me.  I couldn't tell if they were happy or angry, they were moving so fast. Then I figured it out.

        " For the first time in HISTORY, the seventh grade WON FIELD DAY!!!!!" The host teachers were shouting on the top of their lungs, they were so happy.  Talk about enthusiastic.  I'm SO gonna get an A in their class. 

        That's one day I'll never forget... I'm proud to have been an Unsalted Cornmeal Slice.