It’s FLAG flag football time. What’cho talkin’ about, Willis? Let me explain:
My friend Michael cajoled me into joining a gay flag football league three years ago, and against my own instincts, I thought, What the hell. My first day of play on the M Street Fields in South Boston, lined up shoulder-to-shoulder with about 40 other guys (who were bigger, badder, and definitely more athletic than me), I was scared shitless. It was Kirn Junior High School P.E. class redux, 16 years later. I didn’t have cleats, felt like the smallest kid in the class, and knew I was utterly unprepared in both skill and knowledge.
Still, in 2005, my first year playing, I was part of the underdog team Maroon with A View, and my teammates welcomed me and my inexperience with open arms. Flag football isn’t rocket science; yet, it also isn’t jumping on a treadmill and pushing the green Quick Start button.
Tonight, I’m excited for the Meet Your Team party because it’s the unveiling of the 12 teams’ names, all based on the color of our jerseys. I’m on the “royal blue” team; this means that we need to incorporate this color into our team name. I’m lobbying for Royal Pains in the Ass. I’m doubtful if anything can beat last year’s team name “Orange Tropicana Whoopass”.