Friday You Discussion - Weird Sports Things You Did as a Kid

[Ryan]

I watched hockey.

This wins.

[govmentchedda]

Cup ball at the park by the little league field. Pretty much wiffle ball with out a ball or bat. We would wad up a Pepsi cup from the concession stand and then divide up into teams There was a patch of grass that butted up against the toddler area that was fenced off. That would have been center field. We would pitch the cup and the attempt to hit it with an open hand. On occasion we would fill the cup with gravel so it would travel further. There were some that kept stats. Steve Humphries was the cup ball Babe Ruth. The kid also played our 11 year old season with a broken arm, batting one handed the whole season. He hit four home runs.

This, but with one of those cushy balls. The ones with a little bit of a slick cover and almost a pillow like interior. We played this in my buddy's living room. There were two boys in that family, and their mom. basically let boys be boys.

Tons of whiffle ball in my drive way. The field was very thin, like a long diamond , to fit in the driveway and yard.

Tennis baseball on a much bigger scale, in the cul de sac. Toss the ball up and whack away. Speaking of whack away, that Witt Playboy was amazing, and she was definitely motivation, although Service Merchandise catalogs' lingerie sections were inspiring as well.

Last, in school, we would draw a baseball diamond me on a sheet of paper, fold up enough paper to make a working outfield fence, and use a pencil to flick a small ball of paper (about spitball size) into play. We would draw up different fields with a quasi grid. When you landed in one of the shapes, you got whatever action your landed on. (Single, double, out, etc. ) we would keep score as well.

[wlu_lax6]

Dice sports board games. My buddy and I played the full season for 2 teams. I was always the O's. He was the Red Sox. Each year when the new deck came out it was a big day.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Statis_Pro_Baseball" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

We had football too.
https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/445 ... o-football" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

[wlu_lax6]

So this was a game I learned at Ace Adams Lacrosse Camp at UVA (Shirley will appreciate the reference).

Dick Ball. One person starts at the end of a long dorm hallway with a lacrosse ball. The other sits with legs spread wide open. Person 1 rolls lacrosse ball as hard as he can at person sitting on floor. Person sitting on floor does not move. Scores for a direct hit. Kid who invented the game had one of those names you never forget. Guess he is a real estate broker in Charlottesville now (http://www.frankhardy.com/eng/associate ... -birckhead" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;).

[Shirley]

So this was a game I learned at Ace Adams Lacrosse Camp at UVA (Shirley will appreciate the reference).

Dick Ball. One person starts at the end of a long dorm hallway with a lacrosse ball. The other sits with legs spread wide open. Person 1 rolls lacrosse ball as hard as he can at person sitting on floor. Person sitting on floor does not move. Scores for a direct hit. Kid who invented the game had one of those names you never forget. Guess he is a real estate broker in Charlottesville now (http://www.frankhardy.com/eng/associate ... -birckhead" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;).

That's a pretty good Virginia lacrosse name. My high school was full of kids with names like that. I also went to the Jim Adams lax camp all through high school. Good times. Never played dick ball though.

[Johnny Carwash]

Not an only child, but having only one younger sibling with minimal interest in sports, I can relate.

...make up fictional leagues complete with team names and logos, draft players to those teams, use Print Shop to make roster pages, and then...um...look at the teams? And then do it again like a week later?

Did this, in the hope there would one day be video games advanced enough to let me put them to use. When that eventually happened, lost what probably amounts to several years of my life.

...collect NFL Huddle characters (not the plush ones, but the little rubber action figures)

Had a few of these, but they were too expensive for toys you couldn't really do anything with.

Also:
Using baseball cards to set lineups, then playing Atari baseball and pretending the nameless blobs of pixels were the guys on the cards.
One-person simulated basketball games in my back yard, featuring the Lakers and the "East All Stars," i.e. the dozen players I knew who weren't on the Lakers.
Not sure if this counts as a sport, but parachuting G.I. Joes by strapping them with plastic grocery bags and dropping them from the upstairs banister. This made them fall about 2% slower than they would have otherwise.

[Ryan]

Not sure if this counts as a sport, but parachuting G.I. Joes by strapping them with plastic grocery bags and dropping them from the upstairs banister. This made them fall about 2% slower than they would have otherwise.

Yeah, my kids send Hot Wheels cars down the slide and see which ones go the farthest in the grass. It's about the least fun thing I can watch them do and I would have done it for 600 hours in a row at their age.

[Ryan]

I also used to announce the entire Celtics roster like Andy Jick and run down the driveway with whatever signature move each one had.

[Nonlinear FC]

* Strat-o-matic, played out a full season of the Tigers... More than once.

* lived on a hill, so houses/yards stepped up towards the top of said hill, neighbor "above" us had a flag-stone wall that ran all the way down the side of front yard. In the middle of the wall, about 3 1/2 feet off the ground, there was a tennis ball sized hole or gap between the flagstones. I painted the flag stones around that hole and it made for a tight strike zone.

Any pitch that hit the paint was a strike. I could only record a strike-out if the ball went in the hole. If the ball came off the wall, I had to field it cleanly and throw the ball at another painted area to the left of the strike zone to record an out. If the ball got buy me on the ground - single; one bounce-double; in the air - triple; in the air onto the driveway - HR.

Did I mention I was an only child?

The key to why this was so fun/challenging was that to record a strikeout, you couldn't lob the ball at the hole... you really had to zing it in there. So even if I got 2 strikes throwing relatively slowly, on that third one, if I missed the strikezone the ball was coming out hot. And the flagstones meant you really never knew where it was going.

[A_B]

I had a similar version of that using the front porch at my house.

[HaulCitgo]

Sock rolled up into a ball with a cut out brown paper grocery bag as a hoop. Full reenactments/simulated NCAA tournament matchups. Mean with the sky hook. Three pointers from the corner near the dryer. Had to shoot 3s over the fridge (werent that big back then). Also played a similar "baseball" game on steps. Had to pitch it and the other guy would catch it off the steps. Further back the ball bounced beyond the fielder the more bags. Various different versions of step ball/wall ball/roof ball over the years. Not sure that one is weird at all. Make me sad that the kids have no concept.

[sancarlos]

In a mini rugby game I picked up the ball from the base of the scrum on the opposition line and ran the length of the pitch in the wrong direction to score what I thought was a try...

Rolling Dungeons and Dragons dice to decide which NFL team I would support (Conference, Division then team), ended up with Houston having rolled again when I initially got Denver.

Memorised the entire rosters for all 28 teams (numbers, heights, weights, colleges and years of experience) in 1984.

Got my front teeth broken by the same player in consecutive rugby games and my mum refused to have my teeth capped by the dentist on the 2nd occasion, stating that other peoples hard earned taxes should be used due to my poor life decisions. I was 11 at the time...

Played 1 on 1 football with my mate Rob in his back garden, always West Ham vs QPR in the FA Cup final. QPR never won. The same applied to our England vs the West Indies back garden Cricket test matches in which the West Indies always won.

Getting overtaken by another swimmer while representing my scouts in a swimming gala over 50m (in a 25m pool). He could do butterfly, I could not.

Should have stayed with Denver.

[Shirley]

Oh yeah, roof games were awesome. Depending on the house, we'd either play where we'd bounce it off the roof or throw it entirely over to kids waiting on the other side.

Do BB gun fights count? Had a few of those. Some kids had Red Ryder guns, so those with multi-pump guns (Crosman 760) had a 3 pump max. But then one kid would always get hit, throw a fit and you'd hear him pump like 12 times while everyone else ran away laughing. I can still remember the sound of a BB hitting one of those poofy 80s down coats. WHHHHAP!! Shooting at your friend and hearing that sound would make me laugh so hard I'd almost piss myself.

[Rush2112]

Oh yeah, roof games were awesome. Depending on the house, we'd either play where we'd bounce it off the roof or throw it entirely over to kids waiting on the other side.

One of the houses I lived in during college had an empty lot next door. We played one on one wiffle ball with a home run being over the roof, triple going up the roof but not making back over the fence, etc.Had team games lengthwise in that lot. Had two leagues going at the same time, with stats, etc. Great times.

[Rex]

Not sure if this counts as a sport, but parachuting G.I. Joes by strapping them with plastic grocery bags and dropping them from the upstairs banister. This made them fall about 2% slower than they would have otherwise.

Yeah, my kids send Hot Wheels cars down the slide and see which ones go the farthest in the grass. It's about the least fun thing I can watch them do and I would have done it for 600 hours in a row at their age.

Having no slide, I would use a yardstick to do this. I had my favorites and got quite upset when they didn't win.

[The Sybian]

Not sure if this counts as a sport, but parachuting G.I. Joes by strapping them with plastic grocery bags and dropping them from the upstairs banister. This made them fall about 2% slower than they would have otherwise.

It's as much of a sport as NASCAR, so I'll allow it.


The best sport ever was Sleeping Bag Boxing. Standing up, you put a sleeping bag over your head down to the ground. Your arms were constricted, so you couldn't punch too hard, and it gave you some padding. The game started in my friend's upstairs hallway, which was narrow. One or two guys would stand by the stairs to stop a fighter from falling, but starting to fall down the stairs in a bag like that freaks you the fuck out. You lost your sense of direction really fast, and I think we started spinning the fighters to start matches when we created a ring. It was hilarious watching two guys flailing nowhere near each other. It also really suckewd getting clocked in the jaw or side of the head when you had no sense the hit was coming. We built a ring at another friends house with bungee cords. His basement had a pillar, but I can't remember what we latched the cords onto. Lots of bloodied noses and goose eggs. Once we hit 8th grade or so, we had to stop, as punches became too hard.

[govmentchedda]

Not sure if this counts as a sport, but parachuting G.I. Joes by strapping them with plastic grocery bags and dropping them from the upstairs banister. This made them fall about 2% slower than they would have otherwise.

It's as much of a sport as NASCAR, so I'll allow it.


The best sport ever was Sleeping Bag Boxing. Standing up, you put a sleeping bag over your head down to the ground. Your arms were constricted, so you couldn't punch too hard, and it gave you some padding. The game started in my friend's upstairs hallway, which was narrow. One or two guys would stand by the stairs to stop a fighter from falling, but starting to fall down the stairs in a bag like that freaks you the fuck out. You lost your sense of direction really fast, and I think we started spinning the fighters to start matches when we created a ring. It was hilarious watching two guys flailing nowhere near each other. It also really suckewd getting clocked in the jaw or side of the head when you had no sense the hit was coming. We built a ring at another friends house with bungee cords. His basement had a pillar, but I can't remember what we latched the cords onto. Lots of bloodied noses and goose eggs. Once we hit 8th grade or so, we had to stop, as punches became too hard.

We did sleeping bag boxing in that family room I mentioned above. The younger brother that used to volunteer to be pounded ended up playing college football.

[duff]

Used to have 'ninja' fights at my cousins house. We would stare into a lamp for a minute or two and then shut the lights off in their basement. Then we would attempt to fight each other in blindness. We landed a few good flying kicks off the couches and broke a lamp or two. We only did that a couple of times before my aunt and uncle put a stop to it.

And I don't know if this would be considered a sport or just being a juvenile delinquent, but we used to go "corning". During harvest season we would steal bucket loads of corn from the grain elevators around and then find strategic locations near busy roads. We would hide in wait for unsuspecting cars and then pelt them with the corn. Many times we would have to run and hide in the near by woods or fields depending on location. There was a time when I used a reed and hide in the creek. Nothing better then being soaked to the core in 45 degree weather. Ah, those were the good ole days.

[Ryan]

And I don't know if this would be considered a sport or just being a juvenile delinquent..

Pretty tough call, yeah.

[sancarlos]

And I don't know if this would be considered a sport or just being a juvenile delinquent, but we used to go "corning". During harvest season we would steal bucket loads of corn from the grain elevators around and then find strategic locations near busy roads. We would hide in wait for unsuspecting cars and then pelt them with the corn. Many times we would have to run and hide in the near by woods or fields depending on location. There was a time when I used a reed and hide in the creek. Nothing better then being soaked to the core in 45 degree weather. Ah, those were the good ole days.

Similarly, in our neighborhood growing up, there was an abandoned house that was built into a hillside, right next to a 35 mph speed limit road. When I was in junior high, some evenings all the kids in the neighborhood would climb onto that roof, which was just above street level. In the winter we'd load up with snowballs and pelt the cars driving by. In the summer, it'd be tomatoes from somebody's garden. Sometimes a car would stop and, the driver would get out to yell at us. If that happened, we'd try to pelt the driver himself, because, in the dark, they'd never find us. We finally quit that "sport" when we unknowingly got a sheriff's car, and then one kid smacked the officer himself with a snowball. Boy was he pissed. We got so scared that we never did it again.

[The Sybian]

And I don't know if this would be considered a sport or just being a juvenile delinquent, but we used to go "corning". During harvest season we would steal bucket loads of corn from the grain elevators around and then find strategic locations near busy roads. We would hide in wait for unsuspecting cars and then pelt them with the corn. Many times we would have to run and hide in the near by woods or fields depending on location. There was a time when I used a reed and hide in the creek. Nothing better then being soaked to the core in 45 degree weather. Ah, those were the good ole days.

Similarly, in our neighborhood growing up, there was an abandoned house that was built into a hillside, right next to a 35 mph speed limit road. When I was in junior high, some evenings all the kids in the neighborhood would climb onto that roof, which was just above street level. In the winter we'd load up with snowballs and pelt the cars driving by. In the summer, it'd be tomatoes from somebody's garden. Sometimes a car would stop and, the driver would get out to yell at us. If that happened, we'd try to pelt the driver himself, because, in the dark, they'd never find us. We finally quit that "sport" when we unknowingly got a sheriff's car, and then one kid smacked the officer himself with a snowball. Boy was he pissed. We got so scared that we never did it again.

We were once so bored and high, my friend wanted to block off the street and call the cops on ourselves. Then his idea was to hide until the police came, then run when they started looking around. This was during a run when subgroups of friends were getting their capers written up in the newspaper police blotter.

[DC47]

In the fall, and especially in the weeks before halloween, we would gather apples from the trees in our neighborhood and head to the cemetery around dusk. Using a stick, we would punch a finger-sized hole in the apples. Then insert the firecrackers.

It was an art to cut the fuses to just the right length so that a thrown apple would explode in close proximity to a car driving down the street next to the cemetery. The gravestones at dusk provided excellent cover. We believed the cemetery setting would be scary too.

There were a few times when a car would stop and back up. That was a bit scary for us. Time to sprint to the back of the cemetery where a creek ran down a ravine, and escape in both directions.

[mister d]

My favorite weird sports game that I played as a kid was called "stab that kid from the neighboring city right in his dick". Never got caught, but there were a few close calls with revenge stabbings and a special victims unit. By 13 or 14, we'd moved on to street hockey.

[Giff]

And I don't know if this would be considered a sport or just being a juvenile delinquent, but we used to go "corning". During harvest season we would steal bucket loads of corn from the grain elevators around and then find strategic locations near busy roads. We would hide in wait for unsuspecting cars and then pelt them with the corn. Many times we would have to run and hide in the near by woods or fields depending on location. There was a time when I used a reed and hide in the creek. Nothing better then being soaked to the core in 45 degree weather. Ah, those were the good ole days.

Similarly, in our neighborhood growing up, there was an abandoned house that was built into a hillside, right next to a 35 mph speed limit road. When I was in junior high, some evenings all the kids in the neighborhood would climb onto that roof, which was just above street level. In the winter we'd load up with snowballs and pelt the cars driving by. In the summer, it'd be tomatoes from somebody's garden. Sometimes a car would stop and, the driver would get out to yell at us. If that happened, we'd try to pelt the driver himself, because, in the dark, they'd never find us. We finally quit that "sport" when we unknowingly got a sheriff's car, and then one kid smacked the officer himself with a snowball. Boy was he pissed. We got so scared that we never did it again.

We were once so bored and high, my friend wanted to block off the street and call the cops on ourselves. Then his idea was to hide until the police came, then run when they started looking around. This was during a run when subgroups of friends were getting their capers written up in the newspaper police blotter.

That's like the whitest thing ever.

[Jerloma]

I used to play tennis against a lot of rich kids and they were usually dickheads so I used to go out on the court wearing shorts with boxers hanging out the bottom, a sleeveless t-shirt usually tattered, one racket with no cover or bag, and a cup of water. Partly just being non-conformist and partly more satisfaction from them thinking they got beat by a poor kid.

[mister d]

Title of "Whitest Thing Ever" falls after just 3.5 hours.

[P.D.X.]

I used to play tennis against a lot of rich kids and they were usually dickheads so I used to go out on the court wearing shorts with boxers hanging out the bottom, a sleeveless t-shirt usually tattered, one racket with no cover or bag, and a cup of water. Partly just being non-conformist and partly more satisfaction from them thinking they got beat by a poor kid.

We always had to wear collared shirts in competition. Must be a west coast thing.

[The Sybian]

And I don't know if this would be considered a sport or just being a juvenile delinquent, but we used to go "corning". During harvest season we would steal bucket loads of corn from the grain elevators around and then find strategic locations near busy roads. We would hide in wait for unsuspecting cars and then pelt them with the corn. Many times we would have to run and hide in the near by woods or fields depending on location. There was a time when I used a reed and hide in the creek. Nothing better then being soaked to the core in 45 degree weather. Ah, those were the good ole days.

Similarly, in our neighborhood growing up, there was an abandoned house that was built into a hillside, right next to a 35 mph speed limit road. When I was in junior high, some evenings all the kids in the neighborhood would climb onto that roof, which was just above street level. In the winter we'd load up with snowballs and pelt the cars driving by. In the summer, it'd be tomatoes from somebody's garden. Sometimes a car would stop and, the driver would get out to yell at us. If that happened, we'd try to pelt the driver himself, because, in the dark, they'd never find us. We finally quit that "sport" when we unknowingly got a sheriff's car, and then one kid smacked the officer himself with a snowball. Boy was he pissed. We got so scared that we never did it again.

We were once so bored and high, my friend wanted to block off the street and call the cops on ourselves. Then his idea was to hide until the police came, then run when they started looking around. This was during a run when subgroups of friends were getting their capers written up in the newspaper police blotter.

That's like the whitest thing ever.

There were four of us, and one was black. If it was the black guys plan, would this being the whitest thing this side of Jerloma qualify as ironic? He wanted to go along with the plan, but in fairness, being black didn't carry any stigma with the police or court in my town. Suburb of a small city that was by far more middle class than the surrounding towns, and very few black people. The poor sections were entirely white AFAIK, so the black kids were middle class kids of engineers, professors and doctors.

[Jerloma]

You grew up with Hood?

[The Sybian]

You grew up with Hood?

Huh, the kid was actually half white and played hockey. We always made him be Utica Devil great and occasional NJ Devil Claude Vilgrain.

[DC47]

I used to play tennis against a lot of rich kids and they were usually dickheads so I used to go out on the court wearing shorts with boxers hanging out the bottom, a sleeveless t-shirt usually tattered, one racket with no cover or bag, and a cup of water. Partly just being non-conformist and partly more satisfaction from them thinking they got beat by a poor kid.

I would have liked to see this!

I once drew the top seed in the New England tennis championship. I arrived with my dad's WWII airmen's duffle bag containing my racquet and another that I had used as a tyke, bought from Sears and with a broken string, as my faux "backup racquet." If I had a problem with my #1 racquet, I was done. My opponent arrived with the usual stylish gear, and a crowd of 50 or so onlookers. I won the first three games before reality intervened. But I sure enjoyed the hell out of those three games.

My apparent poverty was real. My parents were bankrupt, my father an unemployed alcoholic. This tournament was out-of-state but I'm sure they didn't know I was even there. I could only play out-of-town tournaments that my doubles partner wanted to do; I depended on his parents for transportation until I could drive. Being broke was actually a material disadvantage in my tennis career. My opponents could afford coaching. I hung out near tennis pros giving lessons so I could overhear some tips. My opponents played indoor tennis in the winter. I got a job cleaning up at an indoor facility, and then played with another guy doing the same job when we got done after midnight. My opponents could afford the latest racquets and frequent string jobs. I got my tennis balls from searching the tall grass outside the court fences, and got one re-stringing each spring.

My competitive highpoint was beating the guy who in a few years won the NCAA tournament, and a few years later made the semi's at Wimbledon and won a silver in the Olympics. But I didn't have the finances required to find out how good I could be. No doubt, not as good as the guy that I beat on what was my best day and his worst. But I was left wondering. If I could have played in the winter, gotten some coaching, and received medical treatment for my rotator cuff problem, what could I have done? I made sure that these things didn't limit my older daughter when she played soccer, so she could find out what she could do.

My regret in tennis was not about my failure to achieve a particular level of competitive success in my late teens and early twenties. It was about not being able to see what I could have become as a tennis player. How well could I hit the ball? How well could I play under pressure?

Though we were more frugal than most of her teammates, I made sure my daughter wasn't limited in her pursuit of soccer. As a result, my daughter knows what kind of soccer player she is. That's very rewarding to me as her father.

[A_B]

I had to go to my backup racket in the regional tournament when a string broke in the first set. It was a $20 job from Wal Mart. We won the first match but lost the second one. Probably wouldn't have mattered but I like to think it was the sole thing that kept us from a state doubles title.

[Jerloma]

Being broke was actually a material disadvantage in my tennis career.

Yeah, it definitely doesn't help.

Can you tell us who the guy was you beat that made it to the semis in Wimbledon?

[DC47]

Tim Mayotte

[Jerloma]

Tim Mayotte

Get the fuck out! My brother actually played Mayotte in a NELTA tournament when he was a kid. Got killed but he was a couple years younger than Tim. He was from Connecticut or something, right?

[DC47]

I believe Tim lived near that year's NE championship location, which I think was around Springfield, MA. I also beat his older brother Chris, who was just about as good at the time. He had a much lesser college and pro career. But both were marvelous teen tennis players. They could serve-and-volley as well as anyone around. Even when I beat them, they dominated play. I could only counter their attack, and hope for errors. One of them -- I forget which -- had a temper. I had an effective lob off both sides, and used it often. Partly because missed overheads were the fastest path to a melt-down.

Of course, John McEnroe was in theory an east-coast player, and I suppose could serve-and-volley a bit like the Mayottes. But he was too good to play regionally, so he was not part of that scene.