Nobody Understands Superjock

Sometimes I don't think being a Superjock is worth the hassle. Powermom and Ultradad don't even bother looking at my report card as long as I'm still on the team, Megacoach is always barking orders, and everything in my life is just a prelude to the big game. For once I'd like to be treated like all the other hyperstudents at my omnischool. It could be worse, I guess. Nobody wants to be an overnerd, scribbling away in a notebook, breaking the sound barrier with the speed of their knowledge. But half-court dunks and trick shots off other planets get old fast. There are times when I wish I didn't live in a world of plastic people who embody stereotypes for the entertainment of children.

Also, having a penis would be nice.