Ficly

Seven two, and hating it

The problem with being tall is that it’s expected that you play basketball. I was walking through the hall at school and the basketball coach (or at least, I can only assume he was the basketball coach) stopped me and asked where I’ve been.

I had to answer truthfully, I was in Eighth grade, then I moved up to Freshman. He then had the nerve to assume that I’d been held back. No, I come by this height naturally.

“So how tall are you?”

“Seven two.”

“Seven foot?” He’s incredulous. I do a lot of ducking indoors due to doorways and low ceilings. “Why aren’t you on the basketball team? At that height you don’t need any talent!”

“Because I don’t like basketball.”

“You don’t have to like it, if you play it you’ll easily move onto Professional league and make millions!”

I grabbed the front of his shirt and raised him up to eye level, a move that usually got me my way.

“You will not see me playing basketball.”

“Oh.” He saw my viewpoint, “Can you put me down now?” I did, and he scurried off.

View this story's 1 comments.