I'm sorry, but you're just not the "dodgeball" type. Maybe you should get a doll?

For some reason I can't explain, I have never been able to play any sport that involves a fast-moving ball.

Balls (you know, the sporty game kind) have always had this strange magnetism to my skull. No matter the game or venue, the ball will find it's sneaky little way to my head. In other words, I always get hit with the ball. Always. Hard.

I think it all started in elementary school when I first came to my sad realization that I would never become a world-famous dodge ball champion. It just wasn't in the cards for me. I would step onto the gym floor, my biceps clenching in my Limited Too T-Shirt, only to be pelted in the head by multiple dodgeballs at once. Stupid boys and their stupid ability to throw and dodge simultaneously.

Those first dodge balls hurt, but I was a resilient little pigtailed brat. I kept trying. I quickly learned that basketballs hurt when you catch the pass with your face. Baseballs hurt if they mistake the bat with the side of your head. I could not successfully headbutt a volleyball without falling over. And softballs? Contrary to popular belief, softballs are NOT soft.

Yes. I was THAT girl.

Elementary school came and went and I became a very un-sporty teenager who luckily found several un-sporty friends. We would run away screeching during our pathetic excuse for class volleyball tournaments and use our baseball gloves to fight sun glare as we chatted about dances. During football "games" we would stake out spots as far away as possible, fearing the pigskin's collision with our craniums. I didn't even have to be PLAYING the game in order for me to get injured. I just need to be within 100 yards of a soccer game or a football scrimmage to get bonked in the head.

One balmy night in college my friends decided to play a friendly game of frisbee. "Oh! Frisbee!" I thought, "I will surely be safe, for it is not a ball at all. It is a flat object that usually moves slowly." As usual, I was wrong. My last memory was talking to my friend about class when suddenly --- BAM!--- I felt a sharp thud on the back of my head. The next thing I knew I was looking at the boy who threw the speeding frisbee standing over me asking if I was okay (and hoping he hadn't killed me via frisbee).

I am not cut out to be the world-famous Ultimate Frisbee champion, either.

Years later I was walking down the hallway of my workplace, which just so happened to be an elementary school. Why yes, the very same environment where I first had my athletic dreams crushed. Just as I passed the gymnasium a dodgeball whizzed past my head and ---WHAM--- hit the wall next to me. "Sorry!" a boy called as he jogged out to get the ball.

I will always be that girl.