7th Grade boys...I don't know how they are these days but when I was growing up???
We had moved to a new house and a different school was in my future. As a "new kid", the juniorhigh years were going to be interesting. These were the days when we were starting to notice the boy/girl differences and there were some "he "likes" her" stuff going on. But for the most part, we were just a bunch of kids, innocently experiencing life, before the hormones really kicked in. At least that's what the girls presumed.
Some of the boys in our class decided that on Saturdays, whoever -boys and girls -wanted to show up at an old schoolyard, would play a game of touch tackle football. Sounded like fun...
"Time to pick teams"...one of the most dreaded phrases ever muttered, especially to a tall, dorky, un athletic, new girl....As we all lined up, the boy "captains" began their task of choosing up sides. I had no high expectations but prayed that I wouldn't be the last one standing. Names were called out, "I'll take Mike"... "We'll take Greg"... After all the boys had been chosen, the captains started calling out the girls' names..."we've got Linda"..."Marcia, you're over here"... "We'll take Marysue"...What? Drafted so early? I was both surprised and pumped! Must be because they thought I could run like a gazelle! I couldn't -- but with my long legs, maybe that's what they imagined.
The teams were set and for a few Saturdays in the fall of 1965, we had a lot of innocent fun...or was it so innocent? I came to find out that it wasn't my imagined running ability that garnered my position on a certain team. One of the "captains" confessed, years later, that the girls who were flat as boards (not "busty") were on his team because the "busty" girls (at least to a 7th grade boy) were a lot more fun to touch tackle. Is there anything worse than lecherous 7th grade boys?
Thinking back on those days, I'm not sure if, had I known their strategy, I'd be more disappointed that the boys didn't think I had gazelle-like moves or that I was flat as a board. It really doesn't matter now. I'm still friends with those lecherous "boys, I can't run (if I ever COULD) and being "flat as a board" wouldn't be the WORST thing for an old gal.
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