The ‘Sporting’ Spirit: Part 3

(Note this is the third part in The ‘Sporting’ Spirit series. The first and second parts are fun to read too!) 

As I went to sixth, I realized two things. One, I had found that I’m gonna be a miserable failure in sports. Two, I had lost. Just lost. The name ‘Sloth Aunty’ stuck to me permanently, making me (an ardent animal lover) hate sloths.

Last year, I was forced to participate in a long jump competiton. I fretted and protested, pretended I was sick and couldn’t participate, but there was absolutely NO other choice. I had lost my challenge with sports, and I was NOT willing to continue.

No, they said, no other choice for you. I grumbled and went to the long jump ground, thinking many things. I was a sort of unconditional teacher’s pet, so I was incredibly unpopular among students. To put salt on wounds, I was a volunteer too, which made me even more unpopular. I cannot be more unpopular than this, I thought.

I never knew just how much more unpopular this game would make me.

Well. No use crying over split milk. The game started. However much I hate to admit it, the boys were amazing – only at athletics. I enviously glared at the slim, lithe girls (who looked sooo like me, but performances in sports were reversed).

Finally it was my chance. I took a deep breath. As soon as I started running, everybody howled. Cries of ‘Sloth Aunty!’, ‘Madvaanthi (vaanthi means ‘vomit’ in many Dravidian languages)’. I was used to this. I could do this.

As soon as the arena came into focus, I leaped. Without any false allusions. Distance I had jumped? 5 cm. No surprise, I thought, as the crowd booed behind me.

The second run proved to have the same result. As I sat down, thoroughly exhausted, I thought. What is wrong in losing? People will make fun of you? You will have lowered self-esteem? Nobody will respect you? You will become unpopular? So WHAT???

There is nothing wrong in any of these. Why then, should we feel ashamed. Failure is the stepping stone to success. Failure teaches us. Not only do we learn (ahem) from our mistakes, we also discover our strengths. We learn what works for us and what doesn’t through trial-and-error. Though this might take some (actually a very long) time, we eventually discover what we are good at.

I discovered something. Though I had lost (miserably), some day or the other, I’ll finally find SOME sport in which I WILL outshine others. I have lost my adventurous spirit once, but now that I have found it, I’ll never lose it again.

For Writing 101, Day Sixteen

 

 

The ‘Sporting’ Spirit: Part 2

(This is a sequel to The ‘Sporting’ Spirit: Part 1).

Well. My misadventures with sports continued as I grew up.

This time, though, I was in fourth grade. It was the semis of a inter-class friendly shuttle relay competition(I had been selected solely due to the hard work of my team and no credit goes to me). The sun burnt our backs as we stood waiting, surveying the opponent.  We had just drunk barrels of glucose and were ready to steamroll the opponent.

I am sure all of you must have heard of shuttle relay. There will be two teams, consisting of eight or ten members each. four will be on one side and the remaining four on the other. The shuttle has to be passed from one person to another. The team in which all the players have reached the opposite side first will be the winner. Such a simple game. A piece of cake for me, I thought.

I was standing at the front, ready to roll. The referee blew the whistle. I moved like lightening, defeating even Usain Bolt (or so I felt). While I was busy day-dreaming, the girl who was supposed to receive the shuttle was hitting her head. As soon as she got the shuttle, she wasted a precious second and spat at me. Must be crazy, I thought. She moved fast, but not fast enough, I thought.

The next five minutes was a blur of sand and sun. As the dust storm cleared up, I looked up, eagerly awaiting the results. I entered into another day dream, people lifting me on their shoulders and carrying me, triumphant, back to our class. What a bitter disappointment.

Our team had an epic defeat. Seems that I had moved even slower than a sloth (leading to one of my nicknames, ‘Sloth Aunty’). Though all the others tried to make up my speed by running like the mind, my slowness cost them all. “Thin doesn’t always mean fast,” they remarked spitefully. Well, I still take consolation from the fact that our opponent lost in the finals.

Like they say in America, ‘you can’t win ’em all’.

I have just found out one thing.

I. HAVE. LOST.

For Writing 101, Day Thirteen

The ‘Sporting’ Spirit: Part 1

Note: This is a series of misadventures in my attempts to be noticed in the sporting world of my school. These are intended to be of humorous nature (though they’re real, of course) and are not to be taken seriously.

When I was a child, I was always made to think that I rock at everything. Well, parents tend to do that a bit. But what happened was that I grew a bit overconfident.

See, till now, I’ve always rocked at academics. Never have I gone below the grade of A2 in my class. Yeah, people call me nerd, bookworm, and all that, but they know who’s the boss when they need help in studies.

But I always wanted to prove my mettle in sports. I had huge dreams of being on TV channels, with the anchor saying, ‘This young lady here is not only the school topper, she’s also the best sportsperson in her district!!!’ and that sort of stuff.

My dreams started failing from kindergarten itself. We had an obstacle race. Three people competed, I and two of my best friends. The race was pretty simple, actually. Large chairs were placed in a garden. You had to run from the starting point to the ending, and back to the starting again, either by jumping over, or ducking under the obstacles.

The race begin. I envisioned myself as swift as the wind. I jumped over the chairs and reached the end point first. Confident of winning on the way back, I decided to try something different. Instead of jumping over, I tried ducking. That proved fatal. I got stuck.

Needless to say, by the time I was out, my friends were given the gold and silver medal. Sorry, no bronze medal for you, they said.

Till this day, I hate obstacle races.

For Writing 101, Day Four