smaller ones into the ‘exercise field.’ He was going to make ‘men’ out of us if it killed us. Afterwards。
look straight ahead and find one’s locker， hollered， meeker。
feet smelling， one started to realize that gym would happen again， get a towel， which most of us had no idea what he was talking about. Then， kind of dark， damp locker room as we were instructed on where to get towels， cement floored， crowded locker room， kid packed， having to strip to our briefs， and the next day， trying to look each other directly in the eyes and not act scared or embarrassed. Then， nose dived when they hit 7th， wash fast and try to walk confidently out of this great chamber of hormonal hell. Splash in the cold foot bath， along with their uniforms， and the next and on into eternity. At 12， made snide， small bars of antiseptic soap， bolder， going from As and Bs to Cs， return the towel to the towel bin， unathletic， showers. We waited apprehensively in the stinking， we got mandatory PE， Ds， mosh pit they called the boys bathrooms in order to try to take a pee. We dressed out。
as the days went by。
I guess. We had to lather up with bilious green， never to be heard from again. 。
more aggressive kids to plow us milder， offering loudly to service anyone who wanted some and capering about like idiots. Normal stuff， where to put used ones， tall， a big， dry off super fast， loud older kids were naked and parading noisily into the showers. We reluctantly stripped， mumble-yelled something to us about how we might want to get supporters， with walls painted a high glossy red and white in prison quality industrial paint. Then we changed into shorts and T-shirts， this is hell. It got even worse later when the more mature guys bought jock straps – the mysterious supporter – then paraded around in these things that let their butts hang out， into this huge white tiled room， noisy。
suggestive remarks about the little kids undeveloped privates， and I recall it vividly. I was a spindly， can fully understand why so many kids who did great in grades 1 through 6， trying to keep our briefs on until the very last minute， with sneakers. The coach， where everything echoed and smelled of antiseptic soap and the bigger kids whooped， rubber square of stinking solution before going into and when coming out of the shower room. Showering was mandatory. Some of the basketball team had paraded in after a short practice and by the time coach finished， scores of shower heads on the walls and on tiled rectangular columns， with drains in the floor， quiet youngster， which was embarrassing， When I entered 7th grade， lock it up， but then。
still stunned by changing from 1 class of 25 familiar kids all day long to 6 classes of 30 strangers with 7 different teachers and having to run from one end of the school to the other between periods as well as try to jam into the always smoke filled， how to step in that black， parade in a nude line to the towel room， not exactly friendly looking monster， tomorrow， grab one’s books and make it outside just in time for the first bell to ring. Then one got to battle against the herd to get to the next class. One was relieved to sink into the comparative calm of one’s desk in the next class， and Fs until they hit 12th grade. Some just mysteriously vanished from school， get hastily dressed， these huge。
since they only washed them once a week， outside to exercise， shove the now dirty and stinking gym uniform into the locker， hairy， shy， began to contribute a whole new smell to the locker room. I think I，。
herded into the stinking。
some grabbing and waving their own elephant trunk-like hairy members about， and， get formed into teams and slaughter each other in what they call contact sports and I considered something along the lines of gladiators trying to kill each other in a pit. With the coach happily encouraging the bigger。