PE Class Was The Best And Worst Of Times!

Like many boys, I participated in all of the sports that Darlington offered back in the good old days. Of course, there were only three…basketball, track, and summer baseball. I enjoyed all three, and you would assume that I also enjoyed physical education class, which was required from grades 7 through 10…well, not so fast!

First of all, the PE classes were combined…7th and 8th grade, and then 9th and 10th grade. The boys’ locker room was very small, and when 30-35 teenage boys occupy a tiny space, things happen. There was no shortage of pranksters who amused themselves by any devious means they could conjure up. One of the most common tricks was grabbing another boy’s athletic supporter (“jockstrap”) from the back of the waist, pulling on it as far as possible, and then letting loose so it would hit the victim like a slingshot…what fun! Another stunt was to sneak up behind someone and pull up on his gym trunks as high as possible to make him look like a dork…or worse, pull his gym trunks down around his knees. This was hilarious when the unsuspecting boy was near a doorway as a girl was walking by…unless YOU were the one they did this to…how embarrassing!

And speaking of those gym trunks, everyone had to wear the required PE outfit…white trunks, white T-shirt, white socks, and white canvas tennis shoes. (Converse high tops were preferred). Yes, a group of teenage nerds. After heading to the gym, we stood around and looked stupid until the PE teacher, who was also the basketball coach, showed up with a clipboard in his hand and a whistle hanging from his neck. “Line up in rows, two arm lengths apart, and get ready for calisthenics!” Oh, what fun! But first he made us run in place and then stretch in a variety of goofy exercises…”one, two, three, four…one, two, three, four” and on and on. Then the hard stuff…push-ups, sit-ups, leg lifts, etc. At the chin-up bar, we had to go one at a time. Some boys couldn’t even do one chin-up, and naturally everyone snickered or made snide comments. Then came the really dumb events…like the “crab-walk,” piggy-back relay, and wheelbarrow relay. All exhaustive and boring.

Occasionally, the coach divided us into teams for whiffle ball, kickball, volleyball, badminton, etc., but by far the most fun activity was dodgeball. It was always a challenge to throw those red rubber balls and try to hit a moving target. Of course, nosebleeds were common if you were smacked in the face, but considered a sign of valor in this teenage war…Cruel?…maybe, but it did teach you to be quick on your feet. I wonder how many of the slower boys explained to their parents why the word “VOIT” appeared on their bare backs?

A couple of times each year, we had to drag a big mat to the center of the gym for boxing matches. The teacher tried to pair boys up according to height and weight, gave each a pair of boxing gloves, and blew the whistle. We had absolutely no instruction or boxing skills…just attacked each other…swinging, flailing, dodging, and dancing around on the mat for two or three minutes until we were exhausted or someone received an injury. If I had to go up against a friend, then he was no friend while I was in the “ring.” If he sustained a black eye or bloody nose…tough luck…it was survival of the fittest! I did witness one boy knocked unconscious once…that was a little scary. We thought he was dead!

Another dangerous exercise was the rope climb. Yes, there was a large rope attached to the gym ceiling. It was approximately 1 1/2-inches in diameter, and we were told to climb the rope and touch the ceiling. Now, the ceiling was very high…I would say 30-35 feet or so. Some boys just could not do it…too chubby or too weak, and there were others who, when they reached the ceiling, became frightened when they looked down from that height. I will never forget when a classmate of mine reached the top, looked down, and froze. Panic set in. He slid all of the way down, sustained rope burns to his palms, and hit the floor with a THUD!

By the end of the 45-minute period, everyone was tired and sweaty, so off to the dinky shower room we headed. Very dangerous territory. There was always the torture enthusiast who could snap his wet towel like a bullwhip and tag anyone in the rear end or legs in a split second. Then there were the “dutch rub” specialists who paired up, held you down, and ground a bar of soap (preferably Lava) into your skull. Another fun activity consisted of holding a victim down on the floor, and then turning on the ICE COLD water until one’s previously reddish-colored skin turned blue. And although these stunts were physically painful, you could NOT tell the PE teacher for fear of being branded a “tattle-tale,” “cry-baby,” or “fink” the rest of your school days…better to suffer silently in ignominious defeat.

But these were not the worst things that could happen. The worst…you might ask? Well, let me put it this way…you had to be very vigilant and alert when walking down the hallway from the showers to the locker room. I can’t count the times I witnessed older boys grab an unsuspecting victim, snatch his towel away, and shove him NAKED out into the “subway” (the lower hallway in the basement), where girls could look out the door of the home economics classroom and see EVERYTHING! It was always better to stay in the shower too long and be late for the next class than to suffer eternal “hee-haws.” A few of the hunted became good friends with an older (or stronger) boy who could protect them from these attackers.

As the clock edged ever closer to the next period’s bell, the boys, dripping wet, hurried to towel off, get dressed, and hopefully make it to the next class on time. The entire locker room smelled of sweat, dirty socks, and Ban roll-on.

I was so glad to become a high school junior, when PE was not a required class, although I must admit that when I look back on those days, I always smile. And how did I get revenge for those “wonderful” years in PE class? Yep, I became a Social Studies and Health teacher…and coached…and yes, also I was also a PE instructor…”Boys, line up…it’s time for calisthenics…but later on, we’ll play dodgeball!”

John “Butch” Dale is a retired teacher and County Sheriff. He has also been the librarian at Darlington the past 32 years, and is a well-known artist and author of local history.