Here's another wonderful suggestion from Just Your Average Writer Here! Sorry it's a bit short. But not to worry! There's more on the way! You guys are awesome and the boys send hugs! :)
As the classes of boys were guided into the gymnasium that Friday morning, Maurice craned his neck to see if he could find the other choirboys that weren't in his geometry class. Harold pushed down on his shoulders as he stood on his own toes to see over the hyper boy's head. "See anyone yet?" he asked. Maurice replied the negative. The pair continued looking around, almost nervously, with Jack and Roger behind them. Suddenly, the dark-haired boy pointed excitedly. "Simon!" he announced. The three other boys waved their arms to get Simon's attention. The small boy, who was with his algebra class, grinned and ran toward them. He was greeted warmly by his brother. Maurice jumped up and down. "Lookie! Lookie! It's Bill! BILL! WE'RE ALL OVER HERE!" he shouted loudly. Bill didn't hear of course due to the noise of all the children being in one echoing building. "NO YOU BLOODY IDIOT! YOU'RE WALKING THE WRONG WAY! OVER HEEEEEEEEERRRRRRREEEEEE!" He earned a slap over the head from Jack with that one.
The choirboys did eventually congregate. "Aren't you all excited?" Maurice bounced. "We get to play all kinds of sports today! And our teachers have us each assigned to one that fits us the best!"
"Why are there all those men wearing green shirts standing around?" Henry asked.
"Those are the people that are going to teach us how to play our sport! They're volunt…voluntee…they're helpers."
The boys marveled at all the different equipment and toys and people that were milling about. Their teachers had handed them a piece of paper with a sport that reflected either their interests or personalities. A voice came over the loudspeaker in the gymnasium, instructing the boys to unfold their pieces of paper and go to their respective sport area.
Maurice tore his open excitedly and without hesitation. He read it aloud. "I got soccer! I got soccer!" he shouted, running in circles around the others. Clearly, this was chosen for him based on his inability to settle down for just one second - he was always moving.
Bill looked down at his paper. "Wow, I got baseball!" he exclaimed. This was chosen for him due to his height and ability to slide across floors (whether it be on purpose or by accident, especially because he tripped so often).
Jack looked down. "Football," he said boastfully. "I guess that's a pretty good match for me," Someone snorted. "Yeah, you're pretty good at knocking people down!" Henry giggled. Jack held his head higher to indicate that he was finished with any conversation anyone would have about the subject.
Roger opened the folded paper. He stayed quiet for a moment, the folded it again so that it looked untouched. Simon nudged him gently. "What'd you get?" he asked. Roger looked down at the ground. "Archery," he muttered, a little embarrassed. Everyone else so far had gotten real contact sports. He knew that he got archery because none of his teachers wanted to put him in the situation where it would be him pinned against someone else, or a circumstance where he could get hurt (or do the hurting).
Simon read his paper off next. "I got golf," he said sweetly. He seemed pretty content with it. Golf was a quiet sport that required a lot of concentration. He didn't mind any of that. Some boys sniggered a little. But Simon remained quiet, because he figured he was going to like this sport.
Harold opened his next. "Look at that! I got baseball too!" Again, due to his height and ability to accurately swing. Henry pointed at the words on his paper. "Aw, I got tennis!" he whined. Bill nudged him. "It's because you're boring." he explained. Some laughed at his serious joke. Robert groaned when he read his paper. "Rugby!" he shouted. "I got rugby! I'll never walk again after today!" He immediately regretted saying it, with Roger around and all. His brother could never walk. And he himself was still in great pain from his injuries. Robert cleared his throat uneasily. "I'll take them all down," he added.
The boys scurried off to their respective sport areas. Simon gave Roger a big hug before they parted, as usual. At the golf station, he met a kindly old man that greeted him and sized him up to a good set of clubs. He and the other boys in his division followed the man outdoors to the playfield so they could practice swinging.
Maurice had no trouble absorbing the rules of soccer. As the young man explained it to the other kids, Maurice put his hand up in the air. "So it's like keep away, without having any arms?" he asked. The man chuckled. "I suppose you could say that," he answered. Maurice and another boy were partnered up to practice kicking a ball back and forth. Ever eager Maurice gave the ball a good solid whack with his foot; so hard that when it connected with the younger boy's shin, he started crying and had to sit on a teacher's lap until he calmed down. Maurice blushed and just continued kicking the ball against a wall that wouldn't cry like a stupid little baby.
Jack was automatically chosen to be the quarterback for the small football teams they'd created. He was naturally good at the sport. His muscular frame and quick agility made him perform at an experienced level - far more than the other boys. He also got quite the thrill from knocking into the others purposefully, just to see them fall due to his control. It was vindicating. He could command, destroy, and then run away from it, leaving it all behind him; yet still earn praise. That - that was good.
Bill…wasn't all that innate. Well, he was in a way…but it was more that he was naturally bad at baseball. Partially due to his declining ability of sight, he never really hit the ball dead-on. Sure, he'd bunt it, or get lucky enough to swing a hit that made it to just before the pitcher's mound, but other than that, he had no stellar performance. He did earn applause however when he stole to second base. And even that had been an accident. He'd bent down to tie his shoelace, but one of the outfielders hollered to the pitcher that he was running. Seeing them come after him with the ball, he got scared and just started running. But, of course, he tripped over his stupid shoelaces and fell flat on the ground. His forehead hit the base. He was counted safe.
Roger was nearly perfect with archery. The man setting up the target paper stopped and examined the one across from Roger. There were three arrows stuck right in the center circle. Three out of four. There simply wasn't enough room inside that small yellow circle for all four quivers, so he had to aim to miss and hit the next outer circle instead. Once the man took his target to replace it, he walked away to get one without holes in it. Roger looked up. He glanced around. "Henry!" he called. "I need another target!" But Henry, practicing a serve swing with his racquet on the nearby tennis court, asked him to repeat because he didn't hear him. Roger grumbled in frustration. "Just come stand over here for a minute!" he shouted. When Henry ignored him, he put a quiver into the bow and pointed it directly at the boy's rump. He pulled back, slowly and steadily as they'd taught him…and…
The man came by again and quickly shoved Roger sideways, causing his release of the arrow to go crooked, flying through the air and sticking into a high tree bough. The instructor stared at the dark-haired boy. Roger couldn't tell if he was shocked that he'd intentionally plotted to shoot a friend, or if he was amazed that Roger had actually shot the arrow knowing that. Either way, Roger was given more targets immediately to keep him from resorting to that last-ditch effort again.
Robert's game of rugby was incredibly difficult. He asked to sit out twice. But both times, they'd told him to stay in the game and really keep trying. They promised he'd like it by the end. However, he hated it - beginning, middle, and finish. One kid accidentally knocked him in the stomach when he was in mid-grab for the ball. Robert had the wind knocked out of his lungs. He crouched on the grass, gasping and heaving, attracting the attention of the nearby coaches. He threw up from the intense impact. The supervisors realized that maybe he had had enough and let him sit out for the rest of that game. The kid came over and apologized to Robert profusely; Robert only thanked him with that much earnest in return.
The sports day overall went well for the boys. Henry realized that there was more to tennis than just being "boring", Roger found a hidden talent, Jack made himself known as an even bigger multi-talented star, Robert learned that the body had several impact-reflexes, Simon found that he enjoyed being by himself in quiet nature, Bill realized his clumsiness wasn't always a hindrance, and Maurice found out that trying to make a person that's a door into a window would only result in a lecture from a teacher that a game "isn't the bloody World Cup". Some of the boys even found their sport to be something to take interest in down the road, such as Jack and Roger. Others decided they could keep looking for hobbies too. But all in all, nobody left without a smile on their face. It was a successful day for the "team" of choirboys.