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Getting Punched

It started out like any other lunch recess, just a bunch of kids running around going nuts, playing tag or kicking a ball around.  I was in grade 5, and standing by the goalposts on a soccer field behind St. Joseph’s Catholic elementary school.  It’s where cool grade 5’s would play.  It’s not like we were doing much.  We basically just stood around for most of recess.  It was me, Roger, Brad, and Jason.  Just 4 regular kids, playing regular recess games, that is until Roger found a twig on the ground and announced to everyone, “Watch this!” He then reared back like he was about to throw a football and whipped the twig as far as he could.  We all looked in awe as this twig sailed through the air, twisting and turning like a boomerang until it landed softly a few yards away.  The rest of us just stood there, mouths open, and I think we all realized at the same time, that a new sport was just invented and that we would probably play this game for the rest of our lives.


The rules were simple. Find a twig, a branch, or anything that was heavy enough to throw and then…throw it.  After everyone throws their branch, whoever’s branch travelled the furthest, won.


And then, just like that, the search was on.  I found one almost immediately.  It was just laying on the ground, where broken branches usually are found, and it was beautiful.  I’m not a horticulturist, but I’m positive it was from a Maple tree.  It was dark brown, with light golden flecks.  I picked it up and I could tell just from lifting it that it had the perfect weight and size.  Jason, Brad and Roger also found their twigs and the game began.  


Everyone had their own throwing style, Brad chose the underhand windmill technique.  Roger felt the best option was to treat the branch like a javelin based on the theory of decreased wind resistance.  Jason and myself felt the best way to throw our sticks were the traditional overhanded baseball pitch style and just let them sail in the air end over end.  Turns out, we were right.  Back and forth we went, round after round, Jason and I either winning or coming in second.


25 minutes into a 30-minute recess, we became one with the twigs.  It was a part of us and if there was some way to go pro in this, I’m sure Jason and I would have been the ones to beat.  I guess that’s why I was so mad when the first warning bell rang to let us know that we only had 2 more minutes to play this game and that’s when Jason did the unthinkable.  


He picked up my twig…and snapped it in two.  


I felt a rage swelling inside me.  I wanted to hurt him, someway, somehow, as he hurt me.

 
I remembered what the bible taught me one day during class when I was half-listening.  An eye for an Eye.  I walked up to Jason, snatched his branch from his hands, lifted it in the air like Rafiki did with Simba in Lion King, but instead of gently returning Jason’s stick to the ground, I thrust my knee up and slammed that branch down on it, breaking it to million shards.  It was probably just two pieces, but regardless, it was beyond recognition.  


Apparently Jason felt the same way towards his stick that I had towards mine because as we stood there face to face I could see a tear forming in his eye, before they narrowed and his fist started to clench by his side.  The final bell rang and just before I could turn around and head back to the school, his fist came hurtling towards me, aimed straight at my jaw.  


I had no time to react and even if I did, I think it was too late.  Boom!  His fist hit me in the jaw, my head snapped back and to the side.  A direct hit to my face.  It was the first time I’d ever been punched in the face and I just remember not feeling a thing.   There was no pain, no swelling, just nothing.  I could have fought back, but I didn’t.  I just turned around and ran back to the school.  


I learned two things that day.  

  1. I could take a punch
  2. Never get too attached to a twig

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