No me gusta los deportes.

I was reminded again today why I don't play competitive sports anymore (especially of the contact variety).

Today my dorm wing had a pick-up soccer game. I'm not completely sure what "pick-up" means, but I assumed it hinted at a casual, non-intense game of stress-free competition. Obviously you can see where this is going.

Yeah, the game wasn't like that at all. I soon found out that our friendly game was really a practice game for our intramural team -- which I'm currently not participating in -- and for good reasons. The last time I played formal soccer was at age eight, and let's just say I wasn't the star player. Yep, no Italian blood here. All I have is endurance -- it's kinda my thing. Six years of cross-country paid off apparently. But skill? None. And it was blatantly obvious some of the hot-shot freshmen were simply toying with me. I'm that bad.

Despite my slightly damaged moral, I had fun. But this afternoon was a harsh reminder that my competitiveness is usually channeled in the wrong way. Instead of bringing my athletic "A-game", I tend to accept the fact that I, in all seriousness, suck at sports that involve moving a ball into a designated scoring area.

Alright, done complaining.