I’m scared I might not be able to impregnate my wife”
A little backstory.
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We had just finished our lectures for the day and were returning to our halls of residence. It was Friday so a game of soccer was imminent as was the weekly norm. We found dozens of empty plastic bottles littering the floor leading to our rooms and a waste bin strategically positioned about 20 feet away. Gante picked an empty Fanta bottle, aimed for the bin and shot. We all watched as it hit the edge of the bin and splattered away.
“Almost”, he said.
Then Matthias went next, determined to “make a bin”.
He shot and dunked the bottle in the waste bin, punching the air as he made the shot.
Then I went next, I mean, if Matthias could do it, then why couldn’t I?
So, I took an empty bottle, threw it towards the bin, thinking it would at least near-miss if it didn’t enter the bin. How wrong I was.
I missed by almost five feet!
Then Gante went again, making the shot this time. Matthias threw and missed just slightly. It was my turn next and I missed again by another five to seven feet.
It’s one thing to try and have your efforts produce or almost produce a reward but its another thing entirely when your efforts are not even considered as making efforts, especially if the people you started with are getting rewarding results.
We went rounds, emptying the floor of the plastic bottles as each of us made efforts to make bins. Gante and Matthias made shots and near missed a couple of times, even other floor mates that later came to join made at least a bin but all my throws were futile: I didn’t get any bottle in; all my shots were shy of the waste bin, always a few feet very shy.
Then I got worried.
After the game along with the many jokes about my inability to make a bin ended, I called Gante aside and said, “Gante, I’m scared I might not be able to impregnate my wife”. He laughed hysterically and told me not to worry about it that I was overthinking it.
“I’m not!” I defended. “What if my swimmers can’t aim well, you know, and they just swim amiss every time?” He laughed again and then proposed that I grab a bottle and that he would bring the bin closer to me, just about five feet from me. “You’ll make this one for sure”, he said. So I thought too.
So I stood there, an empty Pepsi bottle in my hand and a waste bin literally five feet away, with Gante looking on, cheering for me.
And then I released the bottle.
We both watched as the bottle landed…
…ON THE FLOOR! I overshot! By several feet.
Well, I thought, I’m definitely screwed.
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Image source: https://www.ted.com/topics/fear