I was reading The Express on my commute on the Metro (first car on a Red Line train, either ‘cuz I’m dumb, or really brave), and I got a big goofy grin on my face when I reached an article about Quidditch — the flying broomstick sport from Harry Potter — being adapted for play on the ground:

The basic goal is to score more points than the other team by throwing a volleyball (“quaffle”) through the opposing team’s vertical hoops to score 10 points — while dodging kickballs (“bludgers”) thrown by the other team. Each team has a “keeper” who essentially plays the role of a goalie in front of the hoops. At the same time, one “seeker” on each team must try to grab the “snitch” (essentially, a tennis ball in a tube sock carried by someone running around the field who’s not on either team). Catching the snitch is worth a whopping 30 points and ends the game.

I don’t know about you, but the image of a guy running around a field with a tennis ball in a tube sock made me snortle. Apparently, he’s got to wear a weird little gold costume, as evidenced by a photo on the College Quidditch website.

I think this is pretty damn awesome! I mean, I would never play — and not just because I would be fearful of a broomstick placed between my legs, but also because I’m pretty much the most non athletic person in the world. My idea of a triathlon is how my two-mile walk to and from my part-time job breaks down in “legs”: there’s the hike from work to Dupont, from Dupont to the top of that damn hill, and then from the Taft bridge to my apartment. Hey — it is a hike! (‘specially with the blisters and all).

However, while it may in fact be considered dorky and weird to adapt such a game for Muggle play (those of you not in the know, “muggle” is the non-offensive in-series term for non-magical humans), I can in fact completely out-dork and out-weird it (if you read the title of this post, this should not be a surprise): I once built a fairly large model of Hogwarts Castle out of Lego.

Yes really. And it was tall, too. How tall?

About seven feet (I’m 5’10). I was literally standing on my tippy-toes on a chair to put the finishing touches on the large tower.

Eventually, that tower collapsed (took out the Owlery tower, too, on the way down), and had to be rebuilt, and the castle was shorter, after that. And of course, when I made the decision to move to DC, I had to take the whole thing apart. It was quite a smash-fest. Currently, the castle’s remains are packed into several large plastic bins in my closet. I do hope — someday — to build a larger and awesomer version, because really, it doesn’t matter how old I am: I’ll always be a Toys ‘R’ Us kid.

A not-quite-as-complete-as-I-would-have-liked galleries can be found here, here, and here.