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Subject: My Freshman Year of High School Athletic Physical The following is a true and 100% accurate description of my Freshman year of high school physical. Only the names have been changed to protect the mortified. For years I dreamed of attending a well known all-boys private high school in my city. It was a really cool school. It had a reputation of not only being one of the best schools academically, but it also rocked athletically. A school of fewer than 1000 students, it almost always won the private school championships and frequently cleaned the clocks of the public schools whose student populations was three times bigger. It was a school whose name made people sit up and take notice. And when you wore the colors, people knew you were special. I had two goals. One was to be accepted into the school. The second was to make a team. I played a number of sports but the one that I liked the best and seemed to excel at was soccer. I was named to my newspapers roster of “Players to Watch” in soccer. But I also played baseball and ran track and was on a swimming team. This made me no different from the typical student at this private high school. Nearly 90% played a sport in school and more than 70% played multiple sports. And in order to accommodate the demands of so many athletes, the school offered just about every sport you can imagine — 28 in all. I was accepted into the school in March, getting that famous Congrats letter in the mail. Thereafter started a steady stream of mail from the school, most of which I ignored because it was all procedural crap. But, in May came a form letter asking what sports, if any, you were interested in trying out for. That I carefully filled out in order of preference although it did not ask that. In June, a letter arrived saying that all those interested in playing a team sport at school would have to undergo a physical by the school physician — not their own doctor. This was school policy. Till now, the only doctor I had ever gone to was my pediatrician. But asking my dad if that was possible in this case, he looked at the letter and said…Nope! They are pretty emphatic on this, son. The letter had a list of dates and sports. What it said was that you were to appear at the school on the day that the sport you wanted to play in had its physicals. If you wanted to play in more than one sport, it strongly recommended you attend the first available physical for the sport you were interested in playing. For me, that meant soccer. Soccer physicals were being given on July 7th. Other teams on that assigned date included Lacrosse and Swimming. I remember my dad looking at that and whistling (one of those wow type of whistles he did when amazed). When I looked at him pondering what he saw that made him whistle, he said: “That’s a lot of guys to run through….figure 25 to as many as 40 per sport, add in all of the Freshmen who want to be on those teams even though they have not yet made it and you are looking at a minimum of 70 and as many as 100 guys or more!” Then he said: “well….they can’t be very thorough physicals if they are going to do so many guys at one time….” Yeah….right. A few more things about my new private school. It was located in the City while most of the students came from the suburbs. That meant long commutes. Also, the school was one of the oldest high schools in the US. Its legacy went back to before the Civil War (the 1860’s) way more in fact. And probably for this reason, this was a school steeped in tradition and immune to cultural changes. In other words….this is a school that did things like they did in the past. I did not really know this at the time nor would I have understood what that meant. But, I learned. On July 7th, I showed up as required. My dad dropped me off on his way to work. The reporting time for the physicals was by 9am which was the cut-off time for registering. Show up after and you would be turned away. My dad dropped me off shortly after 8. The parking lot was already pretty crowded, probably guys now old enough to drive but also many other older types (Dads, Granddads, uncles and even brothers who chauffeured the athletes to the appointment). It was going to be a really hot and humid day. You could tell, because the temperature was already in the mid-80’s and it wasn’t even 8:30 am yet. The letter had said to report to the gym. I did and the guys were all sitting on one of the bleachers that had been pulled out. It was hot and relatively dark in the gym. The AC was not on but the blowers were so there was air moving around. When I arrived, there must have been 30 or more guys already there. Most of us were wearing shorts and tee shirts. A few had jeans on. And then there were the few (probably Freshmen and transfers) who chose to wear regulation school khaki pants and collar shirt. Being an incoming Freshman and new to the school, I didn’t know anybody. Yes, I did know some guys who were also going to be attending but none of them were here for the soccer (lacrosse and swimming) physicals. I ended up sitting on about the 3rd row of the bleachers and a small guy who looked like he would be more at home in a 3rd grade school yard sat next to me. His name was Darren but he eventually got the nickname of Scamp because when he walked with the rest of us he always had to jog ever few feet to keep up…you know….scamper like a little kid keep up with his dad.. Darren and I were new to this scene but obviously most of the others were not since this was an annual exercise. Yet, you could sense the tension in the warm, humid and darkened gym. I was nervous and so was everybody else. As I was sitting there, hearing but not really paying attention to the low murmurs of the talking around me, I was thinking about what my dad said….with all of these guys going through the physical at the same time they were not going to be very thorough. I was telling myself that they were just going to check our BP, lungs and hearts to make sure none of us sounded like we were going to drop dead on the field and just to cover their own butts in case we did….. Around 9 am, the bleacher was now pretty full. I had no idea how many guys were sitting here but it was a crowd as my dad had predicted. It was around this time that the adult supervision started to enter the gym. These turned out to be the Athletic Director who looked like (and actually was) a retired Marine drill Sargent, two much younger assistants (I guess running 28 athletic programs took help) and what turned out to be the coaching staffs for the 3 sports teams getting “physicalled.” In total, it looked to be about 10 men. Also, a peanut gallery of sorts started to form along the far wall….the dads, granddads, uncles and brothers (and a few mom’s too I might add) who were now ducking into the gym to escape the hot sun outside. kızkalesi escort The AD walked to the center of the bleacher and in a deep baritone voice yelled out: “Listen up ladies!” (The age of political correctness had not quite taken hold in the early 90’s). “You are here I assume for your physical because you are a member of the soccer, lacrosse or swim teams…or would like to be.” If any of you do NOT ….I said DO NOT fall into any of those 3 categories then step forward now…..” Nobody moved. In fact aside from some light coughs and clunking of shoes on the bleachers there was dead quiet that replaced the increasingly loud chatter that had been echoing in the gym. “Good…no idiots yet!” Idiots, I assumed were guys who showed up today that were intending to play a different sport other than the 3 mentioned….Football players maybe? The AD then went on (now joined by his two, young athletic looking assistants). “Ok, the physicals are going to be performed in the locker room. Now, there are a lot of you here today and we want to move this thing along as fast as we can and we have created certain procedures that we follow that may be new to some of you….just follow them. If you are not sure what to do watch what the others (who have done this before) do…..don’t …I mean DO NOT…..make yourself stand out by not following procedures. Trust me you do not want to make me angry…..” By this point, I was intimidated enough to have my heart pounding. “In a few moments, we are going to walk single-file into the locker room. There you are to grab a locker and dump your clothes. The lockers do not have locks on them so if you have any valuables that you do not want to leave in your locker, see Mr. Poindexter (pointing to the assistant next to him) who will take your valuables …but frankly, I would not worry about anybody taking anything…it isn’t like they are going to have pockets on them (light laughter from the bleachers). Any questions?” Darren, next to me raised his hand: Coach, when you said to dump our clothes do you mean everything but our underwear or what? The AD, looking a bit agitated and at the same time almost savoring this opportunity to make his point: “Listen up guys…..for those of you who haven’t gone through this before….I want you bare assed. No panties…no watches…no necklaces or anklet bracelets or whatever you homos adorn yourselves with these days….bare assed naked….is that understood?” My stomach was now churning, almost like getting kicked in the gut after eating a bowl full of oatmeal. (That happened to me once courtesy of my brother). So much for brief cover your butt type exam that would only take a few minutes…. The gym was now stone dead quiet aside from the sound of the blowers. Even the crowd standing along the sidelines of the gym were quiet. until …. “Ok fellas….I want you to all start to line up by Mr. Fagelson over there (who waves towards us) but before you do…listen up! I want you to remove your shirts and hold them and bring them with you to the locker room, but take them off” No explanation of why they wanted us with our shirts off before we went in the locker room, but we followed the order. One guy who took off his shirt had an sleeveless undershirt on underneath that he left on. The AD shouted to him as he lined up: “Take the bra off son! I wanna see your pink titties as you enter the locker…Now…when you get in the locker room, give the first and last initial of your name to the gentleman standing at the door when he asks….” Then he pointed to a guy in the middle of the bleachers who was wearing a red shirt and said: “You in the red shirt, stand up for a second…What are your first and last initials? The reply: “J…O” What is your name son? John Obermeyer. Ok…so when we go inside, John will tell the man JO for his initials of his name, not his favorite bed time activity each night…understood? Nervous laughter…. Shit. Even talking like that in front of those other adults present in the gym was embarrassing. We took off our shirts and lined up as instructed…bare chested. Even for those who had done this before seemed nervous. Being all new, the school, the nudity, the anticipation of what was next…had me a nervous wreck. We then followed the line into the locker room. As we did, we were greeted at the door to the locker room by a guy with a Magic marker pen. On our right bicep, he wrote a number and then asked our initials which he added to the end. For me, I was 32JO. I felt like cattle in the slaughter house just before they slit their throats …or castrate them. I followed the crowd and grabbed a locker. Darren, the little squirt who had been seated next to me in the gym grabbed the locker next to mine. The locker room was old…..metal baskets for our clothes…..very warm and very humid. There were frosted windows that ran along the upper part of the wall opened wide. Funny how the windows may be frosted to afford privacy but once opened like that it hardly makes a difference. Being in the city, there were buildings surrounding us too. Just an observation but the world outside could easily see in. Aside from the ventilation from these windows, the only other ventilation was from the doors. At the back of the locker room were double doors on opposite walls. One set opened to the athletic field. The other to the parking lot. In between these double doors were 4 trainers tables and judging from the way things were set up in there, it was between these doors that the physicals were going to take place. On the end opposite the trainers tables was the shower room. It was a big, white tiled room with shower heads on the walls. No shower cubbies, no shower curtains. Just one great big white tiled room. A bunch of benches usually located by the lockers were moved to this area where the trainers tables were and were used to create a fence separating the locker from the tables. Behind the benches were 3 workstations…. There was a guy perhaps in his mid-40’s whom we later (in the morning) nicknamed Dr. Lovenuts. He was dressed in khaki pants and a green Izod golf shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. In addition to him were two younger looking guys wearing medical scrubs…med students I assumed there to help in the festivities. Behind them lined up along the wall were the 10 or so coaches. While they were not sitting down, it was a bit like the judges on American Idol. Some of them had clipboards and were already writing notes. I kept waiting for applause and criticisms as we were paraded by them in our naked forms. One by one, we lined up naked. Now this was a real shocker for me and for many of the other guys. I was not used to anything close to full nudity for an extended period of time. At most…and very seldom tarsus escort I might add, brief partial nudity as I changed from my athletic gear (and only when no other options were available) in a locker room…but you never took everything off at one time ….you kept your shirt on while you slipped your underpants off…and had your underpants on while you changed your shirt….you kept some clothing on to at least provide some modesty. This stripping off everything and then lining up naked leaving your clothes behind quite frankly had me hyperventilating. Added to that was the uncomfortable heat and humidity…and the eyes….every where were eyes. You had the docs or nearly docs…you had the coaches and slowly, seeing the double doors opened and wanting to escape the sun, you had the chauffeurs mentioned earlier slipping inside and standing along the walls. Even if they remained outside, the action was all between the two sets of wide open double doors. Privacy? HA! The only privacy available was from your two hands or the close proximity of the naked guy in front of you shielding at least a portion of your body. And speaking of that, the line kept getting closer and closer together and it wasn’t long before you felt the guy’s cock behind you pressing against your ass or worse ass crack. And if you attempted to move away to give some space you risked pressing yours against the cheeks in front of you….and if your dick started to …stretch out for whatever reason….your embarrassment became more …pressing. At first, many of us were standing hands cupped over our crotches. But after an hour or so of that ….well, you occasionally had to move your hands so they didn’t fall asleep and after doing that a few times….why bother covering? I was chatting with the guy in front at times and at some point I mentioned to him that I knew guys who went to other high schools and they never described anything like this. He then pointed to this old codger standing against the wall — his granddad. Both his dad and granddad had attended this school and went through the same physical. As he pointed to his granddad, this white haired elderly man smiled and winked. Was it in admiration that his grandson was going to the same school….or perhaps the size of his cock? Who could tell? And it got worse… I mentioned that nearly 90% of the students played a sport in this school. The other 10% were obviously the super-nerds. You know …the guys in the glasses who who see a ball as only some spherical shape meant to be analyzed as part of a physics assignment. They seemed to all wear eyeglasses… nerdy tennis shoes….stupid tee shirts of psychedelic colors or of rock groups…and shaped like the Pillsbury Dough boy. They had 4 of these nerds helping out….dressed of course. They all had clip boards. As you lined up in your birthday suits, they moved along the line with forms that they filled out by asking you questions on the form. They entered your name and your number…62JO in my case….and then proceeded to ask you questions on the form….and I could not help notice they held the clip board low enough so that as they were filling out the answers their eyes were not just on the form but also on your cock. Questions like: any illnesses in the past 5 years…..ever fainted or lost consciousness… any concussions…..and of course there were my favorites: ever diagnosed with a hernia? Ever have any sexually transmitted diseases? These were the days when privacy regulations such as HIPA were non existent. And here you were…naked as the day you were born…telling these guys answers about your anatomical and health profile. It couldn’t get much worse. Uhhh….yes. it could. It certainly was for Darren behind me. When the nerd started to ask him questions, he stopped yelled to the coach up near the trainers tables and said: “Coach, we have a bald one here!” He was referring to the fact that little Darren had no pubes. The coach walked down the line and came up to Darren who was now covering up his genitals once this nerd had summoned every one’s attention to them. “Hands by your sides, son….” The coach stared like he was looking at cup cakes in a bakery. Then he signaled to one of the med students: “Carl, can you come here for a sec?” Carl, in the blue scrubs joined Coach to look at Darren who was now pulled out of line, forced to stand there hands by his side….”What do you think?” Carl stopped down, brushed his finger over Darren’s pubic area and said….”No stubble so he isn’t shaving it….do you have your pubes yet, son?” Darren squeaked: “No, sir.” Carl then said: “How old are you son?” Darren replied: “Almost 13…well, I will be 13 in December.” Carl then reached forward and grabbed Darren’s scrotum and after feeling around said: “Well, his sac is still tight but his nuts are growing … the doc will make sure….” With that the coach pushed Darren back into line and they all walked away talking amongst themselves. Darren says to me: Shit…that was the worst thing ever… As we were talking another nerd came down the line. He had a rubber stamp of a star and a pad of Indian ink. Every few guys…looked like maybe 8-10 or so, he would stop, wet the stamp and then leave a star imprint on a guy’s bicep just below his number. This it turns out meant he was to give a urine sample….one of the many random drug samples the school conducted all year long. Boys so decorated, following the completion of their physicals were led to the boy’s room adjacent to the shower room and had to pee in a container under the watchful eye of a nerd. The line of naked boys eventually broke down to a crowd of naked boys. Reason is each physical on each boy was running over 10 minutes although since there were 3 stations three boys were being done at the same time. This was turning into a very long day to be standing naked in front of a crowd of maybe 30 adults…and growing. So, the line leading to the first med station eventually went from leading to the back of the locker to running parallel to the benches set up to create a fence….and then the line broke down to more of a crowd…flesh pressing against flesh as guys moved in closer to see what was soon going to happen to them. It was the kind of curiosity you see when there is an especially bloody accident. You know you should turn away but you just gotta see it. There were 3 med stations set up. The first was a good looking med student in powder blue scrubs who took your height and weight and blood pressure. As your turn came up to cross the bench line to start your physical, one of the nerds joined you, form on clip board to write down the findings as the med student/doctor read out the results. All the while you are standing there naked but there is no eye contact cause he is drinking in your anamur escort body, searing what you look like deep into his brain so from now on every time he sees you in class, or in lunch or on the field….he remembers what you really look like. Following the height and weight was the next station: This med student type was more of a nerd …thin, tallish, very serious. There you did some orthopedic type exercises where you twisted your body at the waist, bent down and touched your toes…reached up to the sky with your fingers… deep knee bends….then some checks by sport: baseball players simulated pitching, soccer players simulated kicking….all naked of course. There is something extra humiliating doing these exercises totally naked. You know your tackle is doing its own thing while everyone watches. The 3rd station was with the aforementioned Dr. Lovenuts. Dr. Lovenuts got his name for very obvious reasons. Sure, initially, he used his stethoscope to listen to your heart and lungs, he also did a visual examination of your body looking for who knows what….oozing sores?……then he quickly reviewed the forms the nerds were busily filling out before he did the famous hernia exam….all this while a crowd of hundreds of eyes watching…..all the boys not yet having gone through the maze….the coaches and assistants and the chauffeurs …..all there to watch as slowly whatever was left of your dignity was peeled away. And here was the best part….when Dr. Lovenuts started working down there, he was very slow and very methodical. If the entire exam was running 10 minutes, I think the genital exam must have run 20. He stooped down in front of you, slowly pulled at your scrotum then gently took hold of your cock and pulled it away from your body stretching out (assuming it wasn’t rock hard) and then he rolled your balls before sticking his finger up and behind and telling you to give him a nice loud cough. And when he told you to cough…the entire crowd of naked boys watching you also coughed….a bit of naked humor. After that indignity, Dr. Lovenuts had you run in place –still naked mind you– for what seemed like an eternity which you did facing the crowd…your tackle now undulating side-by-side as your raised your knees to run sufficient to get your heart rate up so he could listen to your elevated respiration. If you somehow managed to not get erect while he gently handled every millimeter of your genitals, this running in place pretty much iced it for you. After he got you worked up so to speak, you would then stand there while he listened to your heart and the crowd of boys giggled at your hard on. Oh….I should mention that as difficult as all of this was for me, it was much worse for two boys. One was little Darren. As I mentioned, Little Darren had not yet been visited by the Puberty fairy and therefore had no pubic hair and his penis was little more than the glans poking out from his body. Seriously, this was the smallest cock I had ever seen on a boy. Everybody had a good laugh at that one except Dr. Lovenuts who remanded him for follow up by his own physician. The other was a transfer student. He was a taller kid but very skinny and very nervous. More nervous than the rest of us. His first name was Jeff. Someone had warned him in advance about the physical so he knew coming in what was going to happen. They also had told him that the doc could tell by the weight of his nuts if he had masturbated, so of course, not wanting to reveal his secret, he avoided masturbating for a few days prior. As Dr. Lovenuts was lovingly fondling his genitals, he suddenly started to moan and then he ejaculated all over Dr. Lovenut’s green Izod shirt. The contrast of his white cum all over the front of this Kelly green shirt could not have been more pronounced nor more embarrassing. Everyone saw it. Everyone laughed. Everyone except Dr. Lovenuts and the coach. The coach stepped forward and told every one to SHUT UP! The doc murmured something to Jeff like: “Don’t worry son, this happens sometimes…” Not very reassuring to a guy who just gave it his all. The coach sent Jeff back to ‘take a cold shower before you return to finish up.’ Jeff did go back and shower but rather than return to ‘finish up’ he quietly left, never completing his physical and never getting to play on whatever team he was trying out for. I got to know Jeff because he became my lab partner in Science lab. Unfortunately for Jeff, he too got a nick name: Cummer. The whole school knew about his date with the doc. Jeff lasted till December when he transferred out. Done in by his nickname. I left my new school that day wondering what I had gotten myself in to. Later that summer, one of the many letters that came in a steady stream to my home was a form to order your PE uniform. The mandatory uniform included two sets of gym shorts and shirts (white with the lettering in school colors), a sweat suit for winter because unless it was snowing, PE was always held outdoors. And the uniform also included a jock strap, of which it was recommended you bought two so you always had a clean one. Of course, seeing that you had to wear a jock meant obviously you had to strip off everything for gym. And of course, showers were mandatory. And, one other unique tradition at my school was when you made the team. I did make the soccer team. In fact, I made the Varsity team. The Varsity had only 4 openings that year and I was lucky enough to be granted an exception (as a Freshman) to play on the Varsity team. Following one of our practices, our coach had to leave to attend a Conference. It was then that the new players to the team were given their official welcome on to the team. Following our showers, we were lined up in the shower room along the white tiled wall and the team captains shaved us of our pubes. Now, the coaches had to know this was happening. They were always in the locker room when we were showering and had to notice some of us suddenly bereft of our pubic hair. But, nobody every said anything. Then, every few weeks or so the Dean of Discipline would be standing outside the shower room as we paraded out…he would grab 3 or 4 players and steer them into the Boys room and hand them a container to pee in –random drug checks. I thought to myself …at least we could go into a stall in the boys room and fill the container. However, the day I got picked to pee I discovered that was not the case at all. He had us stand in the middle of the room and fill the bottle. I guess we were men now. We were taught to do things as they were done at this school for years. It was our badge of honor. But the funniest thing was, in retrospect, the showering. At first we all walked to the showers hands over crotches. But after the first week, nobody cared. In fact, after a game, guys would stand around after their showers talking and chatting and visiting and either congratulating each other or crying about the loss….all naked. We were men. Just like the men who came before us. Proud of our school’s heritage, proud of our athletic prowess on the field….and proud of our bodies. Those were the days.
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