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Finished section on college lacrosse, started section on fraternity life

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Jacob Windle 2019-01-27 09:41:42 -05:00
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@ -88,4 +88,11 @@ And then, suddenly, when some hope of some warmth returning to our toes being re
Finished, heaving, doused with sweat and last night's food in 10 degree air, we'd have to then stagger to the weight room to complete the next segment of our training. While it wasn't as bad as conditioning, it was still tough to handle. Workouts showed on TV monitors reminiscent of Big Brother, telling us to work harder and finish our sets. We were lucky at this point if the head lacrosse coach made an appearance to tell us to work harder, and chum it up with his few favorites. The weight lifts weren't unreasonable, but each weightlifting session was capped by Dean's 'special' ab workout. However, Dean's ab workouts were not predicated on strength. The rule was, if anyone failed, then the whole team had to start over. Despite the all-for-one, one-for-all aspect of the workout, and despite the ridiculous exercises Dean made us do that were designed for us to fail, we had figured out a system. When Dean isn't looking, you can relax for a second. Simple, but foolproof. Finished, heaving, doused with sweat and last night's food in 10 degree air, we'd have to then stagger to the weight room to complete the next segment of our training. While it wasn't as bad as conditioning, it was still tough to handle. Workouts showed on TV monitors reminiscent of Big Brother, telling us to work harder and finish our sets. We were lucky at this point if the head lacrosse coach made an appearance to tell us to work harder, and chum it up with his few favorites. The weight lifts weren't unreasonable, but each weightlifting session was capped by Dean's 'special' ab workout. However, Dean's ab workouts were not predicated on strength. The rule was, if anyone failed, then the whole team had to start over. Despite the all-for-one, one-for-all aspect of the workout, and despite the ridiculous exercises Dean made us do that were designed for us to fail, we had figured out a system. When Dean isn't looking, you can relax for a second. Simple, but foolproof.
Conditioning continued this way for weeks, and I was starting to grow tired of the trail of tears every other morning to the field. College was supposed to be a fun place where I found out who I was, not a job. I didn't enjoy being told what to do every day. Conditioning continued this way for weeks, and I was starting to grow tired of the trail of tears every other morning to the field. College was supposed to be a fun place where I found out who I was, not a job. I didn't enjoy being told what to do every day. And on top of that, I wasn't having as much fun at the parties as everyone else was. Every weekend it was the same thing: we'd have a party at one of the four lacrosse houses, girls would show up in skimpy outfits, everyone would drink, people would hook up, beer pong would be played, and everyone would go home. This algorithm for fun was not enough for me, I craved a sense of belonging that was deeper than shared hedonism. I wanted to be around people that I felt genuinely cared about me and who I was, and lacrosse just wasn't cutting it.
After a few weeks of conditioning, practices began, where I could actually play the sport I trained so hard for in high school. I was excited at the prospect of stepping onto a college lacrosse field as a player, rather than an athlete. Sitting at my locker in the CNU locker room putting on all of my team-issued gear really drove the point home and made me feel good about myself. I was even able to drown out all of the locker room madness around me just thinking about the possible glory to come. However, I quickly found out that my coach's salesmanship was just that, salesmanship. When I stepped onto the field for practice, I would either be put aside with the 3rd and 4th string players, or used in brutal drills where I couldn't even see the people shooting. There was one morning where the fastest shooter on the team was pit against me, in the very drill where I can't see the shooter. He has been clocked at 100+ miles per hour shooting the lacrosse ball. He wound up and fired, from 8 yards, and hit me in the knee. I have never felt a more intense pain in my life, and genuinely felt that my knee was shattered. I was told by coaching staff though to suck it up and get ready for the next shot. This moment put the final nails in the coffin, I needed something else to feel a sense of belonging, and not just like a piece of meat.
Practices continued, and I began to make friends with several people on the team. One of those friends was a guy named Jack. Jack was a decent lacrosse player, and a very funny guy, but was known for being in the fraternity Kappa Sigma on campus. He would always make me laugh and keep me laughing on the sidelines, since he and I both were not deemed good enough to even practice. After getting to know Jack, Jack said I should go to a rush event for Kappa Sigma, and that they are always looking for guys like me. Fraternities, I thought, were filled with beer-swilling, pastel-wearing, jocks that no longer could play their sports. That sounded like the perfect escape from my hellish nightmare that was college lacrosse, but I told him I would think about it.
## Rush Kappa Sigma