Athletics

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Mr. Fryman wasn't one to brag, but in high school, he'd been the star football player for the Beach City Belugas, his stature and strength having come to great use. He was proud to see that said stature and strength had been inherited by Ronaldo, but was incredibly frustrated to see his son not putting them to use outside of working in the shop when asked to. OK, he could understand maybe the boy wasn't a naturally sporty type, but he needed some way to stay in shape while blogging half the day away!

Ronaldo had complained when his father suggested for the fiftieth time that he try out for the school football team.

"I hate sports, dad!"

"Try not to think of it as sports! Think of it as quality exercise! Getting those Fryman family muscles moving and things!"

Eventually, after much pestering, Ronaldo finally agreed, only on the condition that his father let him purchase a new laptop at the end of the football season, if Ronaldo did so happen to get on the team.

Tryouts were as Ronaldo expected, meatheads and skinnybones' alike in hopes to be on the team. While waiting to be called out for the drills, Ronaldo pecked an angry blog rant on his phone about how stupid this all was, and grumbled as he momentarily put the phone away just to get through the tryout as fast as he could, punting the ball through the goalpost, tackling the dummy at maximum power, and going through all the running tests with a perpetual scowl, not noticing the impressed looks on the coaches' faces.

Ronaldo had sat back down on the bench, still typing on his phone, uninterested in any discussion on athletics, not noticing a late contender to the field.

Lars was profusely apologizing for being late to the tryouts, and looked relieved that he wasn't too late to actually try out.

Ronaldo looked up in time to see Lars promptly go down like a one winged duck, unable to send the ball to the goalpost, tackle the dummy, and trip during the running drill.

Lars was a sweaty mess by the time he was done, staggering over to the bench in time to scoff, "You tried out?"

"My dad made me."

"How did you do?", Lars cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't know, don't care," Ronaldo muttered, "Hopefully badly enough to not get picked."

The next day, Ronaldo hated himself for being athletically talented, something he discovered as soon as he saw his name on the list as a linebacker.

"I'm gonna have to go to those stupid practices almost every day GODAMMIT," he snapped, standing out among the excited students who were chosen for the team.

Lars was not on the list, and he was currently begging the coach to let him do anything for sake of athlete status. He wanted to impress the girls in his grade before it was too late.

Ronaldo had to admit, seeing Lars stamp out defeated in a beat up old whale costume made him feel much better.

"Whale whale whale what have we here?", he smiled smugly.

"I will eat your face," Lars growled murderously, the smiling whale face of the costume covering his deadly scowl.

"Why, Billy Beluga, where's your team spirit?", Ronaldo smiled.

"In my foot, which will soon be in your ass," Lars glared, flipping him off, the flipper on the costume covering his gesture, then grumbled, "I can't believe that you, of all people, got picked for the football team."

"Look, I'm not that thrilled either," Ronaldo huffed, "It's going to cut into quality blogging time."

"Wow, how terrible," Lars responded sarcastically, pulling the head of the mascot costume off, "At least you don't have to wear this old thing."

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