Dear Coach Freddie King III,
I spent 3 miserable days a week one fall semester in your freshmen college phys ed class. The mutual animosity was as thick and rancid as the stench of stale gym socks in that small athletic classroom. You, the hot young Soccer Coach with stupid, spiky hair, me, the overweight mouse in the last row.
Your job was to train young men and women into hard, chiseled athletes. And there I was, round, bulging, and jiggly. You couldn't stand me.
Remember that day in gym when you had the class run laps around the basketball court for 10 minutes? Remember how you lectured about how important it was to keep running for the entire time and not to walk? And then, as you started you timer and set everyone running, you pulled me aside.
You said I could walk.
You know what, Freddie King? I wasn't embarrassed that you called me aside in front of everyone. No. I was angry. You looked at me and and saw failure before I was even allowed to try.
I know you remember what happened next, I ran* for the entire 10 minutes. I ran more laps than half the class. Even the skinny freshmen girls that weighed 90 lbs. You didn't have a whole lot to say after that.
And then I had the dumb luck to get you as a teacher my sophomore year for Badminton class. I beat you in the final tournament, the only student to ever beat you in the history of your badminton career. Eat birdie, Coach Freddie King III!
Even after that, you still thought of me as a failure. Guess what, Freddie King? I'm not the failure. You are. You failed to see the potential in this student.
You didn't think I could run for ten minutes but I can run for 26 miles. I can compete in triathlons, swim for 2.5 miles, bike a 100 miles, and climb mountains.
Beating you at badminton was just the beginning. I stomp on your condescending grin and spiky hair with every stride and every pedal every time I go out and train.
I pity you, Coach King. Your spiky hair looked stupid. I hope you've gotten a new haircut since then.
Sincerely,
Heather A (Dean) Brewer
*Jogged, rather slowly. But not the slowest.
2 comments:
Nothing like some righteous anger to really get that "I'll show YOU!" attitude going. That's like when people are dumb enough to call someone fat ... and the next words they hear are "yeah, but you're UGLY... and I can diet."
I'm still at 2-3 miles max for jogging, but you inspire me!!
I completely understand where you are coming from. I got my engineering degree (undergrad and grad) just so show Lane Smith that I could succeed without being on GH SO. I did it...but I'm too chicken to send him a copy of my thesis.
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