Do we ever really get past middle school?

It should come as no surprise that I was not a terribly athletic kid. I was also a dork, and as a result was never anyone’s first choice for kickball on the playground.

But this is not a sob story about past kickball anguish.

This is a story about PRESENT kickball anguish.

Kickball, it turns out, is cool again. All over America, adult kickball leagues are springing up.  Normal professional adults put on gym shorts and kick the ball and then go out for beers after. Doesn’t that sound awesome? Unlike soccer leagues, or softball leagues, where there is always some douchebag ex-college player who just cannot let it go and makes it unfun for everyone with his insane intensity, kickball seems innocent, quaint, and non-competitive.

So I asked around, determined there was enough interest, and registered a team for the kickball league near us. Bring on the nostalgia! Bring on the fun-filled early fall evenings! Bring on that bouncy red rubber ball!

Now I’m just afraid that, despite apparent willingness when I casually asked over email, when push comes to shove, nobody will want to play on my team. It’s elementary school athletic self-doubt all over again. In addition to being totally humiliating, this would also be financially troubling, as I had to put the whole team’s fee on my credit card.

Any readers in the Chicago area want to play on a kickball team? Wednesday nights? I promise I’ve gotten more sporty with age…