Around sixth or seventh grade, I started going to youth group. There was a rather hot (to a seventh-grader, of course) girl there named Becca. Whenever any of the guys, who all hated me, made fun of her, I kind of stuck up for her. Then one time we all went to a retreat thing at some college and when we went into the gym there, I noticed there were lots of basketball hoops, since it was big enough to accommodate multiple courts. I looked around and said "Why are there so many goals?" Becca wheeled her head around, scoffed, condescendingly remarked "They're called hoops," and turned back around. I somehow had the wisdom and presence of mind to end my crush on the spot.
Incidentally, I believe that was the only time she ever talked to me in the three years or so that I went there.