Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you are the last person standing? Allow me to explain – a basketball game is about to be played; two individuals arbitrarily select themselves as captains, and two teams are picked, one person at a time. Each captain has a natural tendency to pick their own friends or those they perceive to be the best players. In the end, there you are standing all alone, neither team captain wants to pick you, but alas, you end up on the team that has the final selection. You feel humiliated and embarrassed, but hopefully all that will be forgotten as the game is played. You think to yourself, perhaps you will have your shining moment of accomplishing something spectacular in the game. The reality is most likely NOT!
I have been there more than once in my lifetime, both as a child, and as an adult. If you truly knew me, you would wonder how that situation is even possible. After all, I have been recognized by others as (or was, emphasis on past tense) skilled in a variety of sports including running, swimming, cycling, nordic and alpine skiing, bouldering and rock climbing, kayaking and canoeing, hockey, baseball, badminton and racquetball, and so forth.
The truth is I suck at a number of sports, most notably basketball. I do not understand the game nor do I “get” it. To me dribbling is something that happens after one uses the men’s washroom, travelling is moving from one distinct geographical place to another (more than a few metres), and a personal foul is when someone swears at you. Why can’t I body check the opposing basketball player into the back wall? What do you mean I have to be six foot-ten inches (a zillion centimeters) tall to play the game? Who made up this stupid game anyway? Oh, yeah, that’s right – Canadians made up the game of basketball. After all, we had to have some sort of consolation for those newbies who couldn’t skate and play hockey, right? What is that you say? Oh, that’s true, I stand corrected, the sport of Curling was invented for those who can’t skate and play hockey. Hurry…Hard…what exactly does that mean anyway? The mental image that comes to my mind is rather intimate and personal, and definitely rated Restricted. Why do they throw rocks with silly handles on them? And why are the players so obsessive about sweeping and cleaning the ice with their brooms, up and down, all through the game? Curling is a Winter Olympic sport? You’ve got to be kidding me 😉
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