05 April, 2010

Sporty Facts

ick … If I see another Easter Egg I'm going to puke. Every year is the same: I go completely over the top with Easter Eggs. This year is a bit of a worry as I've peaked too early and I haven't made much of an impact in the excess of chocolate. Just thinking about it is making me feel ill. Lucky for me I have a distraction. Sid at Confessions of A Middle-Aged Coffee Addict has tagged me to share seven facts about myself. Sid is a bit of a cricket fan, so my seven facts have a sporting theme. I'm going to describe seven sports that I have attempted with varying degrees of success.

My sister and I were sent to tennis lessons when we were young. I thought this was because my mother wanted us to meet other kids and have some fun. I was wrong. My mother was a very good tennis player and she needed someone at the other end of the tennis court who she could destroy with her killer serves. Mum lacked a maternal instinct when it came to tennis and was quite happy to grind me into the clay.
Outcome: I have a pathetic, wimpy serve and I haven't played tennis in years.

Most kids pick up swimming quickly. Not me. I have a remarkable lack of coordination so I could either breath or take a swimming stroke, but I couldn't do both at the same time. The swimming lessons continued for years (five, maybe seven years?). Eventually I put all the pieces together without drowning, but it wasn't pretty. At high school it was compulsory to compete in the swimming carnival. I entered the 50m backstroke as I was less likely to drown if I was facing upwards and, to everybody's amazement, I won. In a small country school of 250 kids nobody except myself could swim backstroke and I made the school representative team.
Outcome: I still swim for exercise but at times I get the breathing/stroke bit mixed up and end up having a little drown.

Hockey was my sport. Put a stick in my hands and I was happy. For years I was an average fullback who was happy just turning up and having a hit. I was still uncoordinated and had developed a reputation for always falling over. Every thing changed one day when, in complete frustration at continually being beaten, I pulled on the goalkeepers kit. I had found my calling: as a goalkeeper it's ok to fall over in front of the ball. Hockey got a lot more serious after that and I had to go to training.
Outcome: My knees are stuffed, I have very little lateral movement but I still sometimes fantasize about playing in a veterans comp. Luckily the thought of training stops me from doing anything so stupid.

I played one game of netball at school. It was decided that I shouldn't continue after I asked the coach if it was ok if I punched the girl who was blocking me by doing star jumps. (At least I asked.)
Outcome: never again.

I'm ashamed to admit it but I throw like a girl. I was always put on third base because I could do the least amount of damage there. I gave up softball after I mis-timed a slide into home base. I started sliding too far from the base and I removed the skin from my ankle to mid-thigh. The worst part occurred when I was sent bleeding to the school nurse she insisted I have a tetanus shot which hurt like a bitch.
Outcome: scars and a dislike of needles.

Happily I wasn't the only one who sucked at volleyball. It was the sport we played after the hockey season had finished and nobody took it very seriously. The entire team was dreadful. We were all short and at full stretch we were lucky to reach the top of the net. Nobody had any idea how to play and it was only ever by accident we were able to return the ball to the other side of the court.
Outcome: group humiliation.

Golf is my latest sport. I would be a very good golfer if I could keep the goddam ball on the fairway. And if I could putt. And if I could chip onto the green. Besides those small things, I'm pretty good at golf. One day I'm going to have a good game and show everybody how brilliant I am. One day.
Outcome: I should have some more lessons.

Don't be fooled into thinking I'm fit and active.  I'm a complete slob who is much happier watching sport than participating.  The best part of playing sport is having a drink after the game.

I should pass this on to seven other bloggers, but I'm going to break the rule and send in to three:

Lucy at Diminishing Lucy
Melissa at Sugar Coat it
Jacinta at Live Life Now because she is back from holidays and needs to blog a little.


  1. Nice post vicky. Thanks for visiting reunion matters blog.

  2. I am happy to carry the torch. I'll let you know when I've posted. Great post btw. Laughed out loud! Poor you, sounds a bit damaging..! Lol.

  3. I had a lot of fun remembering all this stuff, so thank you!


  4. LOL You are funny! Sounds so much like my sporting history, only I sucked at hockey more than netball. No sports now though ... on account of my manicure ... boot camp all the way (where there is an I in TEAM)

  5. Ok, I have posted seven things not to do on your camper holiday.