The Sporting Life
“The game isn't over till it's over.”~Yogi Berra
If we’re friends, then you probably know how much I love sports. There is nothing I like better then sitting down on a Sunday afternoon (between Church services) and watching a good ol’ game of American football. Well, that is not quite how one might describe my love of the game. Slowly but surely, I’ve been coming around to sports. At first, we were bitter enemies. Sweat, running, physical exertion, hand-eye coordination, skills in general, these were all things I despised and would have rather stared at a wall, than pick up a basketball; watch TV rather than go throw a Frisbee; kick my brother rather than kick a soccer ball. But over the past two years or so, sports and I have been a little flirty. We’ve been taking it nice and slow, nothing too serious, but getting to know each other bit by bit.
I don’t do too much physical activity here, so it is nice to get outdoors occasionally and have some fun. Usually, I will take a stroll through University Parks and feed the ducks and watch the old people, but one Saturday I decided to get on my game. A few days ago, I joined in a low key game of soccer (co-ed). It was nothing too spectacular. Okay. Okay. I scored three times. It’s no big deal though. I have had it in me all along, but all you haters out there said it couldn’t be done. Well, I’ve proved you wrong. Below are a couple shots from the game. I personally enjoin the one of myself rejoicing while Alex walks away in disgust. Alex being the slimmer, fitter, more athletic specimen, it was nice to finally score one for the out of shape, pudgy guys such as myself. “Nah-Nah---Nah-Nahhh!” I also learned that my thighs (the thing I am most insecure about) don’t look too shabby in pictures, so…photogenic.
I look like a regular David Beckham
I am just about to wreck that girl
Attractive, so...
VICTORY!
However, I don’t want to give the impression that sports and I don’t have our quibbles. Last night, Pastor Cooke (the pastor of the Albert St. Chapel) invited me to a game of Squash at the local fitness center. I had expressed interest after I had heard it was very similar to what we in the States call “racquetball.” I thought to myself: “well, surely I can dominate in this sport. After all, in high school I used to show Bill up like once a week down at LA Fitness…Count it!” The proverb is true, pride cometh before the fall.
In 45 minutes I lost at least seven games to nine. Suffice it to say, I was very embarrassed. But, let it be known that Squash works differently from racquetball. For starters, both the ball and the racquet are smaller than in the States. You can hit the ball off the sides of the wall and the back of the room, but there are still out of bounds once you get to a certain height. Besides that, the ball does not really bounce at all. There were several times I stood there expecting the ball to come to me, only to find out that it fell short about 10 feet and I just stood there looking like a helpless child.
Even though sports and I have had our disagreements, I think we will be able to work things out. I don’t want to give up on her yet, but one more humiliation like that and I’m cutting all ties.
If we’re friends, then you probably know how much I love sports. There is nothing I like better then sitting down on a Sunday afternoon (between Church services) and watching a good ol’ game of American football. Well, that is not quite how one might describe my love of the game. Slowly but surely, I’ve been coming around to sports. At first, we were bitter enemies. Sweat, running, physical exertion, hand-eye coordination, skills in general, these were all things I despised and would have rather stared at a wall, than pick up a basketball; watch TV rather than go throw a Frisbee; kick my brother rather than kick a soccer ball. But over the past two years or so, sports and I have been a little flirty. We’ve been taking it nice and slow, nothing too serious, but getting to know each other bit by bit.
I don’t do too much physical activity here, so it is nice to get outdoors occasionally and have some fun. Usually, I will take a stroll through University Parks and feed the ducks and watch the old people, but one Saturday I decided to get on my game. A few days ago, I joined in a low key game of soccer (co-ed). It was nothing too spectacular. Okay. Okay. I scored three times. It’s no big deal though. I have had it in me all along, but all you haters out there said it couldn’t be done. Well, I’ve proved you wrong. Below are a couple shots from the game. I personally enjoin the one of myself rejoicing while Alex walks away in disgust. Alex being the slimmer, fitter, more athletic specimen, it was nice to finally score one for the out of shape, pudgy guys such as myself. “Nah-Nah---Nah-Nahhh!” I also learned that my thighs (the thing I am most insecure about) don’t look too shabby in pictures, so…photogenic.
I look like a regular David Beckham
I am just about to wreck that girl
Attractive, so...
VICTORY!However, I don’t want to give the impression that sports and I don’t have our quibbles. Last night, Pastor Cooke (the pastor of the Albert St. Chapel) invited me to a game of Squash at the local fitness center. I had expressed interest after I had heard it was very similar to what we in the States call “racquetball.” I thought to myself: “well, surely I can dominate in this sport. After all, in high school I used to show Bill up like once a week down at LA Fitness…Count it!” The proverb is true, pride cometh before the fall.
In 45 minutes I lost at least seven games to nine. Suffice it to say, I was very embarrassed. But, let it be known that Squash works differently from racquetball. For starters, both the ball and the racquet are smaller than in the States. You can hit the ball off the sides of the wall and the back of the room, but there are still out of bounds once you get to a certain height. Besides that, the ball does not really bounce at all. There were several times I stood there expecting the ball to come to me, only to find out that it fell short about 10 feet and I just stood there looking like a helpless child.
Even though sports and I have had our disagreements, I think we will be able to work things out. I don’t want to give up on her yet, but one more humiliation like that and I’m cutting all ties.
1 Comments:
Amy,
It's good to hear from you. We may have warmer weather, but you have Tabletalk, and for that I envy you.
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