Baton boys

I joined UCB's sports and gymnasium facility this past weekend. The place is a giant mess, full of body conscious undergrads, meat head frat boys, and mousy other types. But there is a pretty strong older contingent, too. I've been trying to get a feel for the place over the last few days. The first day I did the bike on the ground floor. Second day I took to the stair machine on the mezzanine. The mezzanine is a nice place because it isn't as crowded, there aren't mirrors all over the walls, and as a patron you have a good view down to the action below.

The view from the mezzanine includes what can be seen going on in the raquetball courts. There are about 10 raquetball courts along the ground floor. Because raquetball is kind of a washed up sport (although I predict hipsters will begin playing, carrying their mini raquets under their arms alongside their satchel full of knitting needles and i-pod devices), the facility management has started to adapt the space for new uses. They have a spinning class in one. Another court is the "stretching room". The rest are sort of left open, either for people to play a variety of raquet sports or otherwise. They probably do yoga in them, too.

On the stair machine yesterday I was overseeing activity in one of the vacant raquetball courts. Inside, two grown men, one a hefty 6'3 and about 215 pounds, the other smaller, about 5'11 and 160, were in there twirling batons. Yes, you read that right. Batons. Like those cheerleader batons. And doing it ever so expertly. It became immediately obvious that the taller one was the better (shall I say accomplished) twirler. He was twirling the baton around all parts of his enourmous frame. Around his neck, wrists, shoulders, keens, head, etc. The smaller of the two guys was there to learn from the tall twirling giant. He was ok, but compared to the tall guy, he sucked. I was particularly astonished when the tall guy threw his baton way up high and did a series of those exaggerated aerial cartwheels, landing just in time and in just the right position to catch hold of the baton as it spun downwards and begin manipulating it around his massive neck.



I was on that stairclimber for 45 minutes, and they were twirling the entire time. The giant must have had some kind of experience in the cheerleading or team spirit circles. The baton was like an extension of his body. In much the same way that a guitar is an extension of an accomplished musicians, his baton completed him, and fully. Seeing this guy walk down the street, I would have guessed he was a dopey frat boy.

I was just thinking that if had this gym been anywhere else in the country (namely, not the Bay Area), those two guys would have probably gotten some threats from gangs of overfed, muscle headed gym rats. You know, the kind that spend 2-3 hours in the weight room and like to visit the water fountain in groups of three or four. If you are still confused, these are the same people that like to stare at young nubile females running on the treadmill or doing the hip hop class in the gym next door. Anyway, these two baton boys got exactly ZERO attention from people, other than myself. In the Bay Area, male baton twirling is probably just as ubiquitous as roadbiking, yoga, or wheat grass juice fasts.

I guess I should give dopey looking frat boys a little more leeway. They might be good with a baton for all I know. Makes for good entertainment anyway.