Historically, I’ve not chosen the team sports bandwagon. I’ve tried, and failed, sometimes more embarrassingly than others. In middle school, I happily complied to be the water girl at basketball practice because I just didn’t want to participate in the action. In high school, a friend of mine convinced me to do volleyball camp. I lasted three days but, after several volleyballs hit me under a net (this was an “exercise”), I quit. I don’t play well with others when balls are involved, and I’ve accepted this as the way things are.
Until yesterday. I decided to try kickball. Kickball is a kid’s game, and the rules are based off of baseball. Adults play this game, primarily to socialize. More details can be found on the WAKA website.
I didn’t realize I had such a deep-seated hatred of team sports until I was thrown into the kicking as the starting kicker. Surprisingly, I actually succeeded in kicking the ball (this has never happened for me before). And..I sprinted. I knew what to do to get to the bases, but I missed the boat on the whole — what-to-do-when-someone-catches-the-ball — thing. I let my whole team down in one faulty move, and the rest of my evening was frustrating. They said they didn’t care, and that this was just practice…but I knew better –this game was the introduction for the rest of the season, and I just showed everyone I was the weak link. I sulked in the outfield for the remainder of the game, and hoped that I didn’t get myself into a “catching situation” again.
I don’t think I’ve lost hope yet. I like the concept behind team sports — a bunch of people support each other in their journey to get the ball to where it needs to go — and, in return, you make friends and get in shape. But, I don’t think I’ll be going back to kickball.