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fandomhigh2007-06-13 05:17 am
whatever-sucks.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2007-06-13 05:17 am
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Interdisciplinary Studies or whatever, Class 5, Wednesday, Period 5
Last week's class was in the Danger Room, which was set up to LOOK like the camp gym. This week's class was actually in the camp gym. This may cause some confusion.
But if it causes anyone to be late, Squall will be angry.
Since he'd been there for a while, Squall was passing the time by shooting jump shots from half court. He made more of them than he missed. And there was a big blue net bag full of more basketballs leaning against the bleachers.
Guess what today's lesson is about?
When everyone had arrived, Squall tossed out the sign-in clipboard. "Anyone who calls me 'Stormy' gets detention," he informed them. "Now. The last few classes have been all about important stuff that might mean the difference between life and death." He shrugged. "They won't, because we don't have enough time per class to really teach anything useful, but I can hope, right? So today you're getting a break. This is something that's very socially important to learn, because if you don't know it, you're a lame-ass loser."
"Think fast." He chucked the basketball at the students.
"So. Today we're learning how to play basketball." Squall shrugged and handed out... uh. handouts. "There are rules. There are specific and complicated rules, and stuff. But we're not going to worry about technicalities. This is a friendly game." He smirked, and grabbed another ball from the bag. "You'll divide up into two teams. The object is to get the ball through the hoop at the other end of the court. Two points for that. Three if you can do it from behind the big swoopy line. When you have the ball you HAVE to always be dribbling" -- which he demonstrated. "If you stop dribbling, you can't move and you have to pass to someone else. That's pretty much it."
He scratched his head, trying to remember if there was anything else. "Oh, yeah. Fouls are bad. Don't foul anyone."
He kicked the bag so that it fell over and balls started rolling out. "Grab a ball. Practice dribbling, practice shooting. If you want, pair up and practice passing. Passing's important, unless your teammates suck."
When that had gone on for a while, he blew a whistle loudly and called them all back.
"Okay, now divide up and play a game. Shirts verse skins. If anyone wants to be skins but doesn't want to take their shirt off, wear one of these." He held up a bunch of 4XL pink t-shirts.
"I'll be the referee. Good luck."
[Wait for OCD or whatever]
But if it causes anyone to be late, Squall will be angry.
Since he'd been there for a while, Squall was passing the time by shooting jump shots from half court. He made more of them than he missed. And there was a big blue net bag full of more basketballs leaning against the bleachers.
Guess what today's lesson is about?
When everyone had arrived, Squall tossed out the sign-in clipboard. "Anyone who calls me 'Stormy' gets detention," he informed them. "Now. The last few classes have been all about important stuff that might mean the difference between life and death." He shrugged. "They won't, because we don't have enough time per class to really teach anything useful, but I can hope, right? So today you're getting a break. This is something that's very socially important to learn, because if you don't know it, you're a lame-ass loser."
"Think fast." He chucked the basketball at the students.
"So. Today we're learning how to play basketball." Squall shrugged and handed out... uh. handouts. "There are rules. There are specific and complicated rules, and stuff. But we're not going to worry about technicalities. This is a friendly game." He smirked, and grabbed another ball from the bag. "You'll divide up into two teams. The object is to get the ball through the hoop at the other end of the court. Two points for that. Three if you can do it from behind the big swoopy line. When you have the ball you HAVE to always be dribbling" -- which he demonstrated. "If you stop dribbling, you can't move and you have to pass to someone else. That's pretty much it."
He scratched his head, trying to remember if there was anything else. "Oh, yeah. Fouls are bad. Don't foul anyone."
He kicked the bag so that it fell over and balls started rolling out. "Grab a ball. Practice dribbling, practice shooting. If you want, pair up and practice passing. Passing's important, unless your teammates suck."
When that had gone on for a while, he blew a whistle loudly and called them all back.
"Okay, now divide up and play a game. Shirts verse skins. If anyone wants to be skins but doesn't want to take their shirt off, wear one of these." He held up a bunch of 4XL pink t-shirts.
"I'll be the referee. Good luck."
[Wait for OCD or whatever]
Re: Practice shooting
Re: Practice shooting
"Aim for the square on the backboard and what?"
He doesn't really get sporting terms.
Re: Practice shooting
Squall sighed.
"Keep your hands and your body moving after you release the ball. You get more power and control that way." He demonstrated, tossing off a flawless shot that bounced lightly off the backboard and sank into the net.
Re: Practice shooting
"This class ain't like I imagined it'd be."
At least this time when he throws the ball, it hits the backboard. A little to the right of the net.
It's an improvement, though.
Re: Practice shooting
Squall watched his shot.
"Better. Keep practicing and you'll get it."
Re: Practice shooting
"Dunno. Just didn't expect... this," he replies, gesturing to the ball and the gym. "More stuff like last week, I guess - learning how to work as a team."
Or at least, being thrown in together at the deep end as team.
"But... the first day, you told me I couldn't or shouldn't trust anybody but myself."
Re: Practice shooting
Re: Practice shooting
Curious blue eyes, just kind of innocent and watching, asking: did you never trust them?
Re: Practice shooting
And that's all he's got to say about that. Because "I trusted them and they hurt me" isn't something he's about to just say out loud.
Re: Practice shooting
That makes Squall almost human, really, that lack of an answer.
He holds the ball out.
"Show me how you took that shot again?"
Re: Practice shooting
This time, he deliberately didn't hit the backboard, and the ball bounced off the rim a few times before falling in.
Re: Practice shooting
When he aims and shoots this time, it spins around the rim and falls through the net.
One fist goes up into the air.
"Yes!"
Re: Practice shooting