Gym class horror stories

PE in general was pretty ok for me - I was rather firmly “average” when it came to sporting type things.

However, one day in grade 7 for wind sprints I wore this pair of tie-at-the waist track pants, which fell down to my ankles halfway down the gym with everyone watching. Oops.

Oh well, at least I had underwear on…

Good point, but PE is different from regular classes in several ways. At least in high school classes like math or English are seperated by ability, PE classes rarely are. When taking a physical fitness test in PE everyone gets to see how your’re doing and what your score is; not so much in other classes. And what class other than PE requires students to strip to their underwear (or even completely naked) with their classmates?

They weren’t silk underwear, were they?

For myself, the horror can be summed up as: locker room, puberty, 'nuff said.

I had my share of horror. My elementary school had us in classes that combined two grades. It wasn’t a small school, it was some pedagogical reason. Anyway, being the smallest 3rd grade girl in a class playing bombardment or dodgeball with 4th grade boys was no fun at all. They were larger, stronger and meaner.

In 4th grade I was actually assigned to remedial gym. 4 of us girls had to go to gym and do basic stuff (we played a lot of HORSE) a couple extra times each week. As an adult I actually think this was a very proactive thing for the school to have done, to make sure we did the activity without being overwhelmed by people more advanced than we were, but at the time I wasn’t especially appreciative. I think it was done in exactly the spirit of why they sent kids to a reading tutor who need a little more practice with that. However, I have never met anyone else who participated in, or at least will admit to, remedial gym.

Junior high was the worst. There was this one extremely hostile guy who would use softball as an opportunity to try to hurt girls, either by pitching the ball at us or throwing his bat at us. The teachers did nothing to intervene, other than whatever the rules said about throwing a bat being an out or whatever.

My 8th grade gym teacher hurled a basketball at my head and yelled “Blather you fag” because I was talking in line. In 6th grade the gym teacher told us it was “illegal” to kick a soccer ball with your toe, and that you could only use your instep. I believed that for years.

I was a nerd with club feet, so PE pretty much sucked the whole time. I tried to play sports, but I just couldn’t. Running, jumping, anything that involved my feet hitting the ground hurt. When I hit puberty and started growing it really hurt. I got all kinds of shit grade school. We seemed to play dodge ball a lot, and because everyone knew I was a gimp, I became the target. Which, of course, meant that I learned how to dodge well out of a need to survive. Which made me more of target. Any organized sports like basketball or flag footbal involved a lot ‘accidental contact’.

Nevermind that I could throw a football and hit a guy running anywhere on our field, I couldnt play cuz I was a gimp. Nevermind that I could strike a batter out even when he’s crouching down so the strike zone is less than foot high, I couldn’t play cuz I was a gimp. All it taught me was deep frustration for the things I couldn’t do, and lingering hatred for the assholes who needed to remind of it daily.

Nope. I didn’t start wearing La Perla until high school.

“Forgetting” :dubious: gym clothes. Forced to become teacher’s flunkie. Shower duty: One towel per student, no clothes in shower room, no towel leaves drying area. Gets to remove all clothes left in all temporary lockers: Tags jockstrap found in locker 17, three muddy socks in locker 33. etc…:eek:

The worst in elementary school was having to do that Presidential crap and report my sad score of eight sit-ups in front of everyone.

Also, my lack of rope-climbing skills.

Thank goodness gym didn’t count against our GPA in high school or I would have been in trouble. Falling down while on my way around the court dribbling the basketball in some sort of warm-up sucked.

But I did have a moment of happy glory. I was a senior and the teacher had the class playing Lobster Soccer. You had to crawl around on your hands and feet, belly-up, and kick a huge ball. I refused to be humiliated by this crap anymore. She threatened to fail me (fail gym, don’t graduate) but I stood my ground. And happily nothing came of it.

Hee, same in upstate NY. And we had a brief foray into aerobics when that was all the rage. I remember having to do the “pogo” to Da-Do-Do-Do, Da-Da-Da-Da, so that should pinpoint the era nicely.

In high school we were told that the Presidential fitness test was originally invented so the Army could keep track of the health of boys in case of a draft. Naturally this inspired us to do our best :rolleyes: . They never did explain why girls had to take it (other than “things might get really bad”) if that was the case.

In high school we had gymnastics. I have a long body and very short legs. I was not a gymnast. One day we were practicing forearm stands. I was given a place at the end of one mat, with another butted up to it. Just as I got up, someone pushed then pulled the second mat away, causing me to fall into the hard floor. My knee swelled to three times its normal size in a minute. I asked to go to the nurse and the [del]BITCH[/del] err, teacher told me no, that I should “do what I could.” I sat down and held my knee together.
The kicker was, when I got to my next class (late), the teacher yelled at me for NOT going to the nurse during PE.

When I went to the doctor, he called the school to find out why I hadn’t been treated immediately. Nothing happened.

Oh, lordy. Jr. hi and HS gym class. The horror. Actually elementary school gym class was pretty sucky in its own way. One of the worst things about it was that when there was a team game or sport, the teacher would select his or her pets to be the captains, and they would proceed to choose up sides. So everybody got to see who was the best, and who was beyond a doubt the very worst. At the end there was always me (skinny, youngest, nearsighted, no athletic skills) and a morbidly obese girl. The captains would bicker. “You take HER this time, I took her last time…”

My experience was that gym never taught us anything, it just permitted the gifted to demonstrate and improve their skills.

However: In those years I hated that I was the youngest and the skinniest girl in the class. How great it was to go to my 15-year reunion. I was STILL the youngest and the skinniest. Nyah, nyah.

Also, as an adult I happened to meet and to converse with one of the athletic girls I resented and envied for her skills, and told her how I always felt so inferior. “You?” she answered. "I was always jealous of you, since first grade! You could read when I couldn’t. "

In the 5th grade, there was a kid who joined the class part way through the year. He was taller than all the other kids, had facial hair, and could have easily bench pressed the PE teacher. English was his second language. I think he was Egyptian.

He would be embarrassed after gym/swimming, and would literally hide and change after others had left. His deformity? A huge penis. He was freaked out over the fact that he was “different”. Hope things worked out for him.

No specific horror stories here, but gym was relentlessly depressing. I grew up in the era where gym teachers’ idea of how to sort out teams was “pick the two most popular kids, and have them select their teammates one by one.” My nickname was “shortlegs,” hah. I was ALWAYS the last one picked, except in 4th grade by a classmate so compassionate it was unearthly – he wouldn’t pick me FIRST (he wasn’t that stupid) but he always picked me second. Bless you David S from Mrs. Garcia’s 4th grade class in Creve Couer MO, whereever you are now; it has been about 40 years and I still remember your kindness.

I hated gym in junior high. Not because of what we did in gym, it was because of the gym uniforms.

I felt that the uniforms were discriminatory or something. The boys uniform consisted of black shorts and a t-shirt- not so bad. The girls uniform was more like a leotard with a front zipper- the shorts part were red hot pants and the top had cap sleeves with thin horizontal red and white stripes. :eek: I dreaded gym class because of that damn outfit.

When I got to high school, I took ROTC just to avoid gym even though everyones “uniform” was shorts and a t-shirt.

I was a nerd, but I actually liked gym most of the time and played a few sports reasonably well, which got me a little bit of respect. But that doesn’t protect you from stupid people, especially when they’re teachers.

It was senior year, and my gym teacher – while earnestly committed and actually in shape, unlike many other gym teachers I had – was not a bright guy. Toward the end of the year, he decided to take us all downstairs and have us play a game he made up. I forget the name of this invention, but it was a cross between basketball and football. Your team scored points by dunking a foam ball over the chin-up bar, and you could tackle the guy with the ball. That’s where the problem came in: we were playing in the wrestling room, which had thin padding over a concrete floor. At some point, I got the ball, and that’s all I remember.

But what I know happened is that another guy - he was a big guy, and we didn’t like each other, but I think he was just showing off - rather than just tackling me, picked me up and slammed me onto the floor head-first. Everybody was out of the room, save the teacher and one of my classmates, when I came to.

I’ve had the symptoms of a concussion described to me, and I had those symptoms. Maybe they just come from any hard blow to the head. Anyway, they sucked and included dizziness followed by extreme hunger followed by extreme nausea.

We didn’t play that game again. Humanity’s loss, I guess.

I despised high school, but gym really wasn’t too bad for me. Although I was somehwhat nerdy, I was actually a pretty good athlete. Not that the two are mutually exclusive, of course, but I know people would see me and assume I couldn’t play sports, so it was nice surprising them.

The one gym-related event I take with me to this day involves a racist gym teacher. We were doing basketball that day, and me and one or two other kids (all of us white) arrived in the gym earlier than the others. The gym teacher told us to grab the basketballs “before the jungle bunnies got there and took them all”. I was just in complete shock that a teacher would say something like that to students. To this day, years and years later, I still regret not having said anything to him.

This didn’t happen to me but a friend of mine.

It was 4th grade and raining outside so we were inside playing basketball. The coach was trying to teach us some basic skills in the game. Well my buddy was goofing around and the coach told him several times to knock it off but my buddy did not.

The coach got very upset and yelled at everyone to go sit on the benches and then he turned to my buddy and started yelling at him about repsect and such and what not. My buddy kind of snikckered and this pushed the coach over the line. So the coach did something that could never fly today but it did back then about 18 years ago.

He made my bud lay on the ground and then start rolling around the entire gym as a ways to clean up some of the dust. That was the funniest 20 minutes of my young life and it still makes me chuckle to this day. At one point my bud was getting dizzy and he told the coach and the coach told him, “Well, then throw-up and then roll over it to clean it up.” Oh man what a great memory. I’ll be telling my great-grandkids that story.

Oh God yes. I was always dead last.

This wasn’t gym class, but recess, when I was seven and fell on a broken bottle. “Stop crying, it doesn’t hurt.” Bitch, try slashing your hand open and see if it hurts. :rolleyes: