DOdgeball

Mikey Formisano

Every spring, my high school puts on a tournament. Every student, every grade, got together to form a six-person team to determine who was the greatest at one thing and one thing only: Dodgeball. The Dodgeball Tournament was life and death at my school. If you won the tournament, you were the talk of the town, the new top dog, the head honcho. Everyone wanted to win. Of course, of course, there are bigger and greater things in this universe. But at Somers High School, winning the Dodgeball Tournament was the ultimate prize.

Front Kick to the Sternum

The first year I played, I was a sophomore, and it was March. I remember twiddling my thumbs in criminal justice class until a tap tap came on my shoulder. Nicholas Carvahlo, the most Italian kid I knew, looked me in the eyes, through the windows of my soul, and said the words that would change my life.

“Wanna join my dodgeball team?”

YES.

But I played it cool. Even though Nick had been my friend for a long time, I had to play it cool. No one wants an eager beaver building their dam.

“Yeah whatever, for sure.”

“Great.”

“What's the team name?” I asked, confidently.

“Front Kick to the Sternum.”

Incredible.

Carv then went on to tell me who else was going to be on our team.

Jason Mirtsopoulos, the future marine biologist and a really good, funny friend who I now miss dearly.

Andrew Lowman, or simply Lowman, the star soccer player, an absolute monster on the pitch who overcame new-kid syndrome and made his transition from private to public school with ease.

Evan Kieltyka, who could do anything. The Swiss army knife of our grade. He dominated basketball and crushed soccer, all while having an award-winning smile. Dude was and still is a beast.

Brian Walter, one of the funniest kids I have ever met. He would eventually go on to become Soundcloud rapper, Trillmatic. My favorite line of his will forever be, “Climbing the ladder of envy, you gonna fall.”

Like the Avengers, our squad had been assembled under one common goal: winning the Dodgeball Tournament. But before we focused on winning, we decided to first put our efforts on the next phase of our operation: branding. So, we created jerseys. Black shirts, numbers, and names on the back. I chose to take on the alter ego of SAVAGE 99. Savage, after my hero Randy Savage, The Macho Man who formed The Mega Powers with Hulk Hogan. And 99, after one of my favorite football players ever, J.J. Watt.

Written on the front of our jerseys in electric gold was:

Front Kick To The Sternum

Under the alphabetic lighting, was a picture of Bruce Lee soaring towards Kareem Abdul Jabbar with a flying kick. It was the greatest shirt I have ever worn. With our team, our jerseys, and our united confidence, there was only one thing left to do. Play.

Arriving at our high school gym felt unwelcoming. Besides us, the only sophomore team was M5GD. And because we were sophomores, we not only became targets, we were simply unfamiliar with the intensity the upper grades were prepared to unleash.

This was their last shot to win the cup, they had nothing and everything to lose. We knew that we were in for a war but with Front Kick to the Sternum by my side, I was prepared to die. The clock struck 4:00 pm and the tournament started. Immediately, everyone was going bananas. The crowd was screaming as whistles were being blown. My school, to remove itself from olden times, used foam balls instead of the large red traditional rubber balls. I definitely was not complaining about that as getting nailed with one of the old red balls would probably require an ambulance on site. But even with the newer playstyle, it was a madhouse.

After one final game, the announcer called us down from the stands and we got ready for our match. Lining up, we were so jazzed and excited it was unbelievable. If you wanted us to run through a brick wall, we would have with no hesitation. As we got focused, the whistle broke our concentration and we sprinted to the line ready to play. To be honest, I forgot exactly who we played in our first game but I remember we lost. And we lost badly, it was actually almost unbelievable how bad we lost. We didn’t get a single member of the other team out and the game was over in maybe two minutes.

At this point, there was no hope of survival for us but we went out on the court for our second game. Oh, our energy was so high! Like a thirsty man needs water, we needed to win. We had to win, there was no doubt about it. I remember lining up, looking across at my team, my friends, and I just felt this surge of energy. There was no way we were losing that game. Once the whistle started, like freaks we ran to the center to grab our share of foam balls. Now, I know I played down the intensity of the foam balls but still, when thrown by the right person, the balls still hurt. And wouldn't you know it, we were of course, OF COURSE playing the senior baseball team. They were powerhouses, it was so intense. But thank god none of them were accurate, like at all. I guess not everyone can be the star pitcher.

After getting past the intimidation, we were lucky enough to just start striking them out. One by one they all fell until they were all out. And then, we won! Oh, the energy from winning was electric. Front Kick was on a roll and I got my first dodgeball win.

We would eventually go on to win our next four games. And let me tell you, we were cocky as hell. Winning, hi-fiving each other, screaming, we were just having a blast. But even with our late dominance, we were still the very lowest seed of the winners bracket which meant we had to play against the American Snipers. The biggest and baddest senior team that has ever existed. We were incredibly nervous. There was no way we could win. Just no way. But, we were young, still developing. This was a good test for us. Even with all the doubts and insecurities on our minds, we still were confident as could be.

“We can fucking win this guys,” Jason screamed at us. And when that whistle blew, it was actually not a bad game. Did we lose badly? Yes, but we got two of them out and I will take that forever. Our sophomore year journey had ended. We all looked at each other ready for the next year ahead. Side by side, we could never lose. It was the start of something great.

Pain Train

We broke up.

Front Kick to the Sternum burned to the ground. Lowman and Evan went on to form a team with their varsity soccer team, and Brian Walter just didn’t want to play again. I could not believe what I was hearing. Last year was the last time I would ever kick someone in the sternum.

When the news broke, we were all broken. Carv, Jason, and I knew we had to get together and bring in new members, to form a team of electricity and freedom. That is when Carv came up with the idea (or stole the idea from Always Sunny in Philadelphia, who knows), of Pain Train. We were Pain Train now, and as conductors, we were also insane. It was a good balance of leadership and instability. But, the problem still existed. Who could fill out the remaining roster spots? With new junior teams forming and M5GD getting stronger and stronger, we knew we needed to get guys and get them fast. So, we recruited.

Jake Graham, the Somers Football bloodline. If you asked him ANY question about Somers Football, he would know the answer. Dude was a cheat code!

Rich Molloy, who once pooped in his backpack as a joke in class. I am still unsure why he did that but you know, it got a reaction. Crig, who I honestly do not know much about but he was always a nice guy.

In the end, they were three warriors who would dive on a grenade if you asked them to. A bunch of team players who were full of heart, which is exactly what Pain Train needed.

This time around, we didn’t shell out for fancy jerseys like we did the year before. The budget for Pain Train was not the same as Front Kick. Instead, we went the traditional route and used cut off plain white t-shirts. In black sharpie, PAIN TRAIN was written on the front. And in the back of mine, SAVAGE 99.

Arriving at the tournament the second time around felt a little different. We didn’t feel as nervous or scared. No one felt out of place, we all belonged. As we continued to make our way to the gym, we slowly walked towards the bleachers where our hearts broke. Evan and Lowman were wearing new t-shirts, we knew they would. But the names on them were THE AMERICAN SNIPERS. BASTARDS!!

How could they do this to Carv, Jason, and I? Apparently, Jack Maher’s brother, Gerald, who was on the original American Sniper team that beat us last year, passed the name down to Jack, who would then poach Evan and Lowman from Front Kick. To this day, I never would get the full details on the betrayal. But now, I had to face the reality that Lowman and Evan were dead to me forever. Pain Train needed to refocus, lock in, and destroy them.

The Pain Train derailed hard. We won one game out of five. I don’t know how we blew up as we did. Our team was strong, we were good, we had a pizza night at Jake Graham's house the night before! We did everything right. But, we lost and there was just nothing we could do to salvage ourselves. Afterwards, we continued to watch and watch, as The American Snipers and M5GD made the playoffs. I wanted to puke. My worst nightmare was unfolding right in front of me and all I could do was watch. Eventually, the finals would be played and M5GD would hoist up the championship trophy. To be honest, I was super heated and angry. I was being very dramatic because that should have been us! Carv, Jason, and I, then vowed that no matter what, we would have to win the championship next year. There was no other option, we had to win.

Abusement Park

Jason and I got betrayed again. Before I tell you about this betrayal, just know that I think Carv is a good guy. But that senior spring, he was the slimiest snake I had ever known. Carv went on to join M5GD, the reigning champs. First off, M5GD stood for Mach 5 Girthy Dongs. Disgusting. And secondly, the betrayal did not even feel real. When I heard the news, I was shattered. I will never forget texting Carv, hyped about the tournament ahead, and him replying back to me.

(I actually forgot what he said so I am just going to assume he wrote this) “Umm, actually Mike, you wouldn’t believe this! I am a liar and a two-face, so I joined the reigning champions.”

Boy, did this take the wind out of our sails. It was actually one of the most pivotal moments of my life up to that moment. I remember Lowman coming up to Jason and me, rubbing it in our faces being like,

“Oh, you were so mad at us for leaving, now look, Carv left.”

“It’s not about you Lowman!” I yelled back. But, I talked to Jason and we knew that the only way to win was to play. And to play, we needed four more guys.

Our new team was extremely wonky.

Jon Kaufman, one of the most sarcastic and greatest people I have ever met. I still talk to him every single day.

Mike Acosta, a kid who loved basketball so much he would do anything to get on the court and dribble.

Hunter Goldman, who I lost contact with but I hope he is doing awesome. He had a white Jeep with a roof that came off and I always thought he was really cool for that.

Jackson Baumbach. Jackson rocked a bowl cut his entire life. Then, one day he got a new spiked-up look and his whole personality changed. He came out of his shell and was confident as hell. It was awesome.

With our new manager, Michael Cliff, Abusement Park was ready to ride the rides of the Somers High School Dodgeball Tournament. For the final tournament, we knew we had to get the most fashionable and insane jerseys.

Javaughn offered to make our jerseys. A mad man in nature who is in jail as we speak. He was always ready to make money, no matter the consequences. So, the week before our senior year tournament, Javaughn went to each team and told them, “Five Dollars for Six Jerseys.” As everyone in high school was broke, we all pounced on the idea. However, it was a bad bet. The day of the tournament came, and only three teams were wearing their jerseys. No one else had them. Where the hell was Javaughn?

At this point, everyone was bugging, waiting outside the gym for Javaughn’s handsome face to appear. And then, Javaughn came in, sprinting like Santa Claus, with a huge garbage bag full of jerseys. It was an absolute madhouse trying to get Abusement Park’s jerseys. Black sleeveless shirts with a red ferris wheel on the front. Everyone had their own nicknames but I had SAVAGE 99 for one last time.

Walking into the gym felt different this time as seniors. We were still ready for war, but this time we were having more fun. There was no pressure, no worries, no care, we were playing one last time. I remember walking up to that black baseline one last time. I put my foot on the line and looked to my left and right. My friends were next to me. No matter if I was Front Kick, Pain Train, or Abusement Park, I always had friends alongside me. I looked one last time at Jason and smiled as we both acknowledged the journey Dodgeball brought us on.

The whistle blew and we sprinted to the midline for our final battle. And oh, did we get smoked! We lost every game badly, like so bad. But hey, there was an emotional victory. And in the end, no matter the wins, the losses, the controversies or the battles, I’m just happy I got to play.

Our Rainbow Mahnoor Majid

Teal was the color of the book I was reading the first time I saw you at age nine

When you walked into homeroom with that trademark mischievous shine

And I felt as if all the stars in the universe had aligned

Green was the color of your startled eyes

When I bumped into you outside the park underneath cloudy skies

Wearing a lilac sweater two sizes too oversized

But polka-dot pink was the color of my dress on our first set of dates

To cafes, the lakes

And late-night skates

Crimson was the color of our first fight

When you hadn’t been forthright

But I guess I could have used words without such bite an’ spite

Gold was the color of the sunflower you gave me when we couldn’t stay angry anymore

The night, your hand on my cheek and our foreheads touching, we whisper-swore

To always stay by each other’s side for evermore

White and charcoal-grey were the colors of the day we took each other's cue

You said “I do,” and I did too And in celebration a dule of doves overhead flew

Baby blue was the color of our little two-story house

The very first one we bought together as spouse

The papers signed on our third anniversary with nary any doubts

Teal was the color of the signed book, the very one I was reading at age nine, you gave me on the birth of our first baby girl

Whose hair matches yours in curl

And her personality predicted by her birthstone: the mother-ofpearl

At the end, the mosaic of our life together shows our glow

Just like every hue of the rainbow