basketball experimentations

I unknowingly conducted an experiment displaying the intelligence of basketballs during gym today. We were given 'free time.' For now, let's pretend 'free time' means 'anything basketball related.'

The remaining basketballs were all flat, and although there are many creative uses for basketballs in such a state, I'm afraid my gym teacher would've accused me of being a smartass. I don't see what their problem is. I'll do something that perhaps contains some form of exercise as soon as they successfully keep all basketballs pumped and prepared for student usage.

After meandering aimlessly for several seconds, a basketball happened to roll over towards my feet. It was one of the few times a basketball had peacefully made its way toward me instead of the usual method of choice, which would be leaving a giant welt on the side of my head as a proclamation that it had indeed once been there.

But anyway, after the courageous basketball had slinked its way to my tennis shoes, I guided it and simultaneously kept it at a safe distance from my squealing peers by tapping it gently with my toe.

Upon travelling halfway across the gym, three other such abandoned basketballs sneaked into view. I cautiously herded them into a small cluster along the far wall to ensure security and a general lack of paranoia.

It was then that two girls found it necessary to heartlessly steal two of my collected basketballs without so much as saying a word to me.

With the two basketballs that had not been pillaged, I tried to establish the best way of group transportion.

First off, the basketballs were arranged in a linear formation. The basketball closest to me was gingerly kicked, but this caused the second basketball to spin away too quickly for me to maintain control.

The most effective technique of transit was to coordinate the basketballs so that one was in front of each foot. I used the inside of my feet to keep them close to one another, so that each kept the other in check.

It was then that another basketball joined the party.

It was quickly lost when some dude ambled over and asked if he could take it. Damn, at least he asked. To the aforementioned girls, I must've had similar importance to that of the green stuff that grows under boats, if not less.

Merely seconds after resuming my two-basketball escort, a sophomore walked towards me with that piteous gimp that suggested that carbonated water could outwit him. Confident in his obvious cool-ness, he pretended to punt the basketballs to the other end of the gym. He then assured me he was only joking and gimped on.

After a long while of possessiong these two basketballs, another girl approaches me and snags one of the basketballs. She apologizes after taking it, but takes it with her nonetheless.

Because I was relatively behind a basketball hoop, a seperate basketball was deserted and fled to me for comfort and emotional stability.

Remember those two girls who originally pilfered two basketballs from my flock of four? Yeah, well, they returned and stole the only two basketballs remaining. I'm not sure if they had a chronic issue that prevented them from keeping track of relatively large objects or what, but damn. They're bigger than the human skull, it almost takes effort to lose something of that caliber. That, and they're orange. That fact alone should give away their location instantly.

While void of basketballs, I was smacked upside the head with a volleyball, assaulted by a basketball aiming to tear my arm from its socket, and nearly hit by another basketball that ended up harmlessly ricocheting off the wall.

I absentmindedly noticed how that when I protected those few basketballs from my irrate classmates, they in turn shielded me from the onslaught of basketballs that had been 'accidently' chucked towards my face.

My conclusion? Basketballs are selectively violent, so don't piss one off.