COLUMN: The fat kid falling on his butt to the amusement of all
Ever since I was a child, I wanted to be a ninja. I would watch all sorts of ninja shows, and being a child of the ’80s and early ’90s, there were plenty of shows to choose from, like “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” “G.I. Joe” and “The Three Ninjas.” Deep down inside there was a part of me that always wanted to be a ninja, too.
Sadly, as I got older (I’d like to say as I’ve matured, by I haven’t), my ninja obsession faded. It wasn’t until I started covering soccer that my fascination with ninjas came back. Soccer? Ninjas? Yep. Soccer is the missing link between ninjas and ordinary people who can’t disappear or throw ninja stars.
Think about it: what do soccer players do? They kick, they throw, they slide tackle and they make that cool ninja grunting noise. All the essential elements of ninja-ness are included in soccer. But the crowning skill that ties soccer and ninjas is the flip throw-in.
Anybody who has attended a women’s soccer game recently is sure to have noticed the neat throw-in the girls do. Basically, a player steps back, runs up with the ball, does a front handspring off the ball and throws the ball back into play. It doesn’t sound all that complex, but in live-action it’s one of the most amazing athletic feats to behold. When a girl does this flip, she looks just like a ninja. Therefore, I’ve taken the liberty of naming this flip “the ninja flip.”
From the first time I saw this flip, I knew I needed to learn how to do it. If I could pull this off, I would be taking my first step to becoming a real ninja. Some made fun of me for wanting to become a real boy after watching “Pinocchio,” but I pulled that off without too much trouble.
I got my chance on Tuesday. I met with USU soccer midfielder Dana Peart to be taught the art of the ninja throw-in. I paid careful attention to my soccer sensei and bowed to start the training.
Sensei told me the first step to a successful ninja flip was to master the front handspring. She asked me about my gymnastics skills. There was an awkward silence as I debated internally whether or not to tell her my greatest gymnastic achievement was a toss-up between doing a somersault in third grade or successfully crossing the monkey bars. As I confessed this sad truth, her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and contained a look that said, “You are going to land on your neck, break it and die. I hope you’re ready for that.”
The truth is, I wasn’t ready for that. I’ve lived a pretty good life so far, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to end it by attempting to become a ninja. I swallowed hard, gathered my courage and walked onto the soccer field.
My sensei demonstrated a successful front handspring and made it look as easy as tying a shoe. While watching her flip over and land on her feet, my will was divided. The more logical part of my brain was screaming, “You can’t even roll out of bed onto your feet, how on earth do you think you can do a flip and land on anything but your butt?” On the other hand, my determined side faintly whispered, “You can do it. You might end up in traction, but if you pull it off, you’ll be famous. Jackie Chan got his start the exact same way.”
By the time my illogical side took over, sensei was staring at me and patiently waiting for me to try a front handspring. I offered up a silent prayer to live through this experience and not break any bones. I took two running steps forward, planted my hands firmly on the ground and pushed off. Before I knew what had happened, I was flat on my butt and the whole soccer team was giggling. Head coach Heather Cairns stood a few yards off and shook her head in disbelief that I was dumb enough to even attempt what she considers one of the most challenging soccer skills.
I could handle being laughed at, but I couldn’t handle not being a ninja. I knew I had to try again. As I brushed the grass off my backside and looked at my sensei, she was desperately trying to stifle her laughter and look serious. I couldn’t figure out what went wrong. I ran just like she did, planted my hands firmly and did a flip. But unlike my sensei, I couldn’t land on my feet.
I attempted a front handspring at least a half-dozen other times. I tried as hard as I could to mimic every detail of my sensei’s approach. I even attempted the fancy little skip before flipping, but that only resulted in me landing flat on my back and wishing the little stars above my head would go away.
My sensei couldn’t bear watching me nearly break my spine one more time and determined it was time to move on. She demonstrated how to do the ninja throw-in with the ball. This approach is basically a front handspring off the ball. When the front handspring is landed, the ball is thrown in. She made this look easier than the front handspring.
Again my illogical side took over and made me think that maybe I could do the flip on the ball better than a regular front handspring.
I gripped the ball firmly with one hand on either side and ran forward. After a few steps I planted the ball on the ground and flipped over. As I landed, I threw the ball. I was embarrassed as the ball landed a mere 10 feet away.
Even though I learned I couldn’t throw very far off the flip, I was tickled pink that I actually did the ninja flip. I still didn’t land on my feet, but at least I flipped over the ball without breaking my wrists. What’s more, I found flipping over the ball was easier than doing a regular front handspring.
I tried the full ninja flip a couple times and got better. I never succeeded in landing on my feet or throwing the ball even close to as far as my sensei could. I called it quits after a particularly hard landing on my right hip bone.
I can’t say I mastered the skill by any means, but I felt confident I was on the road to becoming a ninja. The ninja flip is a skill that takes great athleticism and concentration, which easily explains why I wasn’t able to pull it off. I felt a little better to learn there is only a handful of girls on each team that can actually do a ninja flip.
I still haven’t given up, so if you see a short, balding guy on the Quad trying to flip over a soccer ball, pause for a minute and enjoy a brief laugh.
Seth Hawkins is a sophomore majoring in public relations. Comments and suggestions on how to alleviate hip pain can be sent to him at sethhawkins@cc.usu.edu.