Meet My Students New Best Friend Mat.
Below is a MRR and PLR article in category Recreation Sports -> subcategory Tennis.
Meet My Students' New Best Friend, Mat
Summary:
While everyone else was Kung Fu fighting, Chester Rambo Zephaniac struggled. Clumsy and uninterested, Chester dragged himself through the motions of the class. When asked to grab a karate mat, he moved slowly, letting it slap onto the floor. An unusual friendship with his classmate, Peter, unfolded, sparking unexpected laughter.Article:
Everyone was Kung Fu fighting, but not Chester Rambo Zephaniac. Clumsy and unwilling, Chester wasn’t attending my class by choice. "Grab a karate mat," I instructed again as the class waited. He dragged himself forward, and with painful slowness, returned to his spot. The mat hit the linoleum with a slap. Unlike most, who would gracefully lower themselves onto the mat, Chester crashed down like a meteor. You could almost hear the ground groan.
"Let's start with some leg stretches," I said, extending my right leg and placing my left foot on my right thigh. The class mirrored me. "One..." I began counting.
"Why aren't you stretching?" a dull voice chimed in. It was Peter Buck, sitting next to Chester. Normally, I could handle all sorts of martial arts strikes, but Chester and Peter's proximity was more daunting.
Only five minutes had passed since we collected our mats. Fifty-five painful minutes to endure. "Two..." I continued.
"Karate is stupid," Chester retorted, "I’m only here because my dad forces me."
"This is Kung Fu," Peter corrected calmly. "Three..." my voice strained.
"Then why the karate mats?" Chester snapped.
"They're called karate mats but used for various things: Karate, Kung Fu, Judo, Tai Kwon Do, Jujitsu?""
"And cheerleading!" Chester interrupted.
Switching legs, I counted slowly. My shouts felt quieter than Peter's calm explanations. "Yes, cheerleading too," Peter sighed. "Cheerleaders need mats as well."
"What do you mean also?" Chester asked. "We don’t need mats for Kung Fu."
"Mats prevent slipping, absorb shock, and provide resilience without being too spongy," Peter explained dryly.
As I stood and the class followed, I noticed the comfort and security of the mat beneath my feet. "You might say," Peter smiled, "Mat is my best friend."
Chester laughed, startling the class with a moment of friendliness between him and Peter. Chester turned his laugh into a cough, then jabbed, "If you have to make friends with mats, that's your choice, Foul Feet Pete. His feet really do stink. Can't you let him wear shoes, even with your precious karate mats?"
I glanced at the clock. Fifty-four minutes to go...
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