Tuesday, May 3, 2016

(THIS) Brown girl can't jump!



Yesterday i told my mum i was getting into aerobics to get fit. She almost peed herself laughing. She's not being mean in the least let me tell you, because this brown girl aka me, cannot jump, hop, skip, run, walk, crawl and every other form of movement to save my own life! Supposing you were kidnapped and held at gunpoint and all i had to do to save you free was to run for 5...no...2 minutes; well then it's bye bye see you in heaven!
See, my mother in her heyday was a super athlete and she generously passed on her athletic genes to my brother and sister while i didn't manage to get even a portion of that gene. Not even enough to help me win a bobbing for apples contest!
I'm not complaining of course! I love the generous helping of creative genes, it's that once... just once i want to run a 100 mtr race without fainting at the finish line! Yes...I've done that!

If you thought picking people last for teams only happened in movies, think again! I was almost always picked last for any sport! Come art and craft tournaments everyone wants a piece of my creative gene. When replaced by volleyball or basketball, i resembled a nasty bramble bush that was about to get stuck on some team's butt.
I've had many a sporting disaster all through school. Lord! Where do i even begin?

Let's start with Tennis coaching! Brand new Yonex racket, super cool tennis outfits, absolutely spiffy shoes and zero clue about what to do! That's what every evening of Tennis coaching was like for me! In my mind, i conjured up this idea that i was supposed to hit the ball as hard as i could out of the court, that was the only way i could win! And every single time i would hit it so hard it flew over the court and onto the road! I was secretly called the "Smash girl"! Once a meanie senior actually came and said "congratulations! Nice shot!" And i beamed big time and replied my thanks all puffed up with pride. I was glowing when i told my dad this. "And i hit it all the way to that car parked there daddy" idiot me said. My dad looked at me incredulously and shook his head. Needless to say, Tennis coaching was done with forever.

And oh my god the time i played circket during a club match! If i warned them once, i warned them a thousand times i say! Don't make me a fielder i told them. Don't make me bat i told them. Don't make me bowl i told them. Despite my repetitive warnings and pleas to let me become a water girl, they made me play all three posts! Of course i ducked out and bowled several wides. I thought i had lucked out during fielding. I chose an extremely odd spot and sat down with absolutely no worries about having to catch the ball. The spot i chose was just way out of line and no crazy batter was strong enough to hit it this far. And wouldn't you know it...a dumb 10 year old smashed the ball into orbit! I saw it come pelting toward me from afar. My team mates were yelling "catch it! Catch it!" So i did this funny half run half gallop with my arms stretched wide enough to catch a watermelon. I kept running...the ball was not falling into my hands. It was when i noticed people gawping at me that i realized that the ball had dropped about half a metre or so behind me and i like the great superwoman that i am kept running with my arms stretched out. No, they didn't let me forget it for the longest time and yes, i was made the permanent water girl.

But i think the worst experience I've had with sports is when i was forced to try my hand at short put. Ok let me put it out there for everyone to know; not everyone who is big made can throw a short put. Which brings me to a commonly known fact; i am big made and quite often mistaken to have super human short put strength. So this one gym teacher at my new school was determimed as hell to make me a champ. He marched me onto the field and asked me to pick up the short put. Man! Fot a short put, it was a real long haul! It took me ages to pick up the ball (which i did with two clumsy hands). "Warming up" i heard the ever positive unicorn gym teacher whisper to the other students. Mustering up all the "strength" i had i threw that sucker into the air...and... (i heard the assistant teacher yelling NEXT at the same time) it landed at my feet. I looked up ashed faced and saw another ashen face staring back at me. The gym teacher had stopped sprinkling positive glitter everywhere. We have not seen face to face since.

Waaay too many memories surface now...the time i rode the cycle and puked with exertion, the time i climed a hill and came rolling down even faster, the time i played badminton and had muscle spams for a week, the time i was paddling in the shallow end of the pool, slipped and swallowed a good load of pee water at the public pool...good times...

Nowadays when anyone asks me to move around and get some exercise...i trudge to the fridge, get a snack, crawl over to my library, get a book, roll into a cozy bean bag and proclaim myself sportsperson of the day!

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