Around here, as far as I know, we don't have a football team, a basketball team, a swim team, a debate team, etc., etc.. We are a geek school, afterall.

However, every student, his pet chicken, and his pet chicken's cousin's friend's roommate plays dodgeball. Come dodgeball night, the campus is a ghost town, with every last student crammed into the gym. You might think that would be the perfect opportunity for a terrorist strike. Well, only if the terrorists want a thousand latex spheroids of doom hurling at their heads in excess of 100MPH.

There are actually multiple dodgeball nights. Wednesday is free for all, other nights are team games or special styles.

It's not just a fixation... it's a psychological obsession. We are the kids who always got creamed in dodgeball in elementary school. But you know what? We enjoyed it. And before we could hone our skills and reak terrible furious vengeance on the dodgeball field, the administration banned the game to 'protect us.' Jerks! First the monkey bars, now this!

For years this fumed inside of us, eating us, building up to a monstrous rage... a rage which we unreservedly unleash at 8:00 PM Mountain Standard Time every night. I'm not kidding, these guys hurl the balls to kill. I was sitting on the sideline on Thursday and a miscreant shot impacted and exploded right next to me, leaving an empty husk of a newly purchased kickball.

Some of them are real star players. It's cool to watch them jump over a volley of three balls, deflect a ball with another ball and then catch it (rendering the thrower out), evasively jump, roll, seize ball, deflect, erect themselves, sprint, and hit somebody out. It's like The Matrix with better graphics and more plot.

Me, I'm nowhere on par with that, but as I said, this is something that's a psychological obsession. So here I am, up at four in the morning, to do what? Training.