First, a volley ball gets stuck high in one of the very large court yard trees.
High school boys then attempt to knock it down with a tennis shoe, or a doomed plastic bottle of tea.
I come to the “rescue” with an american football in each hand. One has much mass, it is leather covered and well scuffed up. The other is red and blue and made of a hard rubber. It is for directing mass at a certian point at high velocity. The leather one is for brute force, more like a clumsy grenade to the rubber sniper shot ball.
The leather one gets stuck first.
The boys keep speaking english and japanese: Naisu Shotto!! Aaa Oshii! and, Yuu Ah- Ero-Teechaa–!!! to me. They also directed various comments towards male reigons of mine, even going so far as to suggest using a particular reproductive/urinary component to knock either of the balls down. I told them that this was at the moment, quite impossible.
More tosses of the rubber football. I get it stuck at least three times. Thrown shoes direct it to earth.
More tosses. The Leather ball hits the ground, but I soon place it in an even more snug location closer to the big branches and trunk.
A Gym teacher comes out, makes several direct hits with the heavy old basketball he had on him and loosens up the volley ball from the tree’s grip. After he tires I make a direct smack to the target, but this locks it further into place. “Yuu Ah– baddo boii!” and “You Arr Bad Examparu” are phrases tossed at me. I said hi to some girls who were leaving to the chorus of catcalls and “Ero Teacher! Ero Teacher!”
More and more tries. We debate climing the tree to get the rubber football down again. One side (me) said that the getting in trouble result of it would out weigh the glory of getting the ball down, but the other (comprised of six 16 year old boys) said they could get up and down before anyone would notice. Then they noticed that they were indeed being watched from many positions around the school. We decided to keep throwing things.
I heave the basketball up, and it comes down gently and rests on the top of the volleyball. The Y of the branch holds them close together.
More tosses between each other. My shirt has long since come untucked and my tie is all over the place.
Finally the skinny kid with cartoon cat and pink striped boxers that kept coming out the top of his orange shorts made the shot. Seeds, pollen, and small twigs rained down upon us as we ducked to avoid the two falling balls. Then everyone cheered and “Yatta!” was yelled a lot. Other people who were watching clapped too.
But the Authentic College weight Football remained. We threw the recently freed balls again many times. Finally Jason made the game winning shot with a direct hit from the rubber football against the leather one. The two footballs, which always get thrown around here like rugby balls by the students, both hit the ground and it was over. After some more back patting, more inappropriate shimo-neta comments, we parted ways.
This was the most fun I have had in a while. I love this place.
The fact that I get to wake up and go somewhere that I love and work with people I like, making probably more money than I know I deserve, and for it to not even feel like a job… Man that is an awesome feeling.
