OK, so I haven’t seen “Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story.” Not in the real theater. Not in the dollar theater. Not anywhere. But in my defense, I haven’t seen it as a matter of principle.

Ben Stiller’s fish-out-of-water, I’m-so-neurotic “Meet the Parents” and “Along Came Polly” debacles have forced me to stop paying to see his movies altogether. It may be a bit harsh, but it’s based on the very scientific conclusion that Stiller movies without Owen Wilson are like people who drink Red Bull without Jagermeister. Sure, they’re hyper, but they’re missing the best part. So I couldn’t see it. Rules are rules.

But with that having been said, the rules didn’t necessarily prevent me from reading about the movie on the Internet (it’s all on the Internet nowadays) or hearing butchered versions of quotes from the movie from drunk friends. (“If you can dodge an OE 40 bottle, you can dodge a ball” comes to mind.) It also didn’t preclude me from hearing that the movie named the five defining elements of the game:

Dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge. Although this is a cute and very alliterative summary of a very complex sport, it simply isn’t accurate. How would I know, you ask? Well, when I was sitting through day seven of the 12-and-under national softball tournament for my internship, contemplating papercutting my wrists with my program or selling my press pass to R. Kelly over the Internet, looking forward to playing in the competitive dodgeball league I was in was all that kept me from going over that edge.

So I can’t stand idly by while Stiller (I don’t know if he’s to blame, but I’ll let him shoulder it anyway) throws out dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge and ignores the real five D’s of the greatest gym class sport of all time.

Those D’s are as follows: disparage, deny, dominate, Duran Duran, and disparage. Let me elaborate.

Disparage. The whole point of dodgeball is to demoralize (another D) your opponent into not wanting to play anymore. Although this can be accomplished with a well-placed throw or a skillful dodge, it’s best achieved with verbal taunts. Making fun of an opponent’s religion or nearsightedness gets close to crossing the line, but telling a man who is 6-foot-3 and stronger than a shot of 151 that he plays like a scared band nerd and his throwing motion looks like giraffe falling off a ladder is a sure way to get him out of his game.

Deny. Whoever said, “If you ain’t cheatin, you ain’t tryin!” must have had dodgeball in mind. Good players don’t let little things like getting hit with a ball knock them out of the game, and they definitely won’t own up to having thrown up a weak lob that just got basket-caught by the opposing team. They deny, they complain, they go into “It wasn’t me” routines, and they live to fight another day.

Dominate. Dodgeball isn’t about outlasting or outsmarting your adversaries. It’s about crushing them. Picture the beating Ed Norton gave Jared Leto in “Fight Club.” Picture the time the quarterback at your high school drilled you in the face so hard that you still had the imprint of the playground ball on your mug for your yearbook picture.

Duran Duran. “Hungry Like the Wolf” is to dodgeball as “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” is to baseball. I’m 90 percent sure that Simon Le Bon had just gotten back from a heated dodgeball confrontation when he penned these words to the ’80s hit:

Straddle the line, in discord and rhyme

I’m on the hunt I’m after you

Mouth is alive with juices like wine

And I’m hungry like the wolf

Vintage Duran Duran, and if that song isn’t about a dodgeball rivalry, I don’t know what is.

Disparage. It’s so not nice it’s listed twice. It’s that important. We’ll see you out there.