What I Wish I’d Known Before I Joined a Sports Team
I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that the world has gone fitness mad. Protein shakes here, how to get the “perfect abs” there, the mass media will just not allow me to sit and eat my Dominoes pizza in peace. And everything you do seems to have an ulterior motive; the best exercise for those legs muscles (literally anything) or what to do in order to get the same body as Kim Kardashian (wizardry). I am part of a select group of people, and yes there are some of us out there, who simply just enjoy exercise by playing sport regardless of what bits of me it’s benefiting. I just like running around and throwing some balls around (hello.) ok? Netball is my poison and I have been playing it ever since I was 10 years old. Being part of a sports team is a bizarre phenomenon and there are several quirks which come with the territory. I shall share them with you now.
Deep Heat… So much deep heat
When picking out a signature scent, there are some people that favour a classic Chanel no. 5. There are some that favour a more contemporary Daisy by Marc Jacobs. Then there are those, like myself, that bathe in the wondrous substance known as “deep heat”. This mystical nectar, when applied and ferociously rubbed into those aching muscles, makes the pain simply fly away. This cream ignites a fire from deep within those aching muscles and allows you to run along again as good as new merely a few minutes post-application. The perk, or downside dependent on your feelings towards the stuff, is that there is a particular scent, an overtone of a robust methanol and an undertone of desperation, that accompanies this cream which will never leave your nostrils once it has entered the oxygen around you. The smell, so distinct, I can smell a fellow deep heatee a mile off. Coco, eat your heart out.
Competitiveness.. about everything.
I am not sure at what point in my life I realised that I was a monster. There was no particular instance that I can recall, merely that I have always had a “competitive spirit”. And I mean really, can you be considered a “sore loser” if you’re just extremely disappointed that an 8 year old beat you at ‘A Game Of Life’? What does that little cretin know about life anyway? Don’t judge me. It’s just logic; why play if you don’t want to win? The hatred of losing burns deep within me; I hate the player and the game. I guess I am just one of those people who are unable to appropriate when it is acceptable to be competitive (on a netball court) and when it is not (playing board games with your cousin). It’s a burden I’ve carried with me for 12 years now.
Hunger… All. Of. The. Time.
If you lay it out, the more stuff you do the more you eat right? It’s basic math; to fuel your body in order to train, play games and party hard (see below) you’re going to need to eat more than the average human. This all makes perfect sense and doesn’t cause much surprise. Yet, especially now, I find myself completely flabbergasted about how I am literally hungry all of the time. It doesn’t matter what the time of day is, my stomach is a petulant child that will not be calm no matter how many times it is told to sit on the naughty step. Now I’m a small human, yet the amount of food I consume within a day could rival the BFG and Hagrid combined. Every time I approach a meal, it is as if I haven’t eaten in about a year. Now I guess I’m what is known as a “foodie”. I absolutely adore food. Cooking it and eating it, I don’t discriminate, and I probably spend about 40% of my overall cognitive function just thinking about food. So this near-on obsession combined with my body’s actual need for sustenance is an explosion of edible wonder. “Just because you do a lot doesn’t mean you can eat whatever you want” I’ve been told… Well I most definitely can.
University sports
If, like me, you have spent a lot of your life playing a sport, then chances are that you have fought your way through the exodus of bright-eyed Freshers, free sample of Dominoes Pizza in hand, to sign up for the university team. Playing sport at uni, however, is nothing like the outside world. Nothing prepares you, or your liver, for three years of intense drinking... I mean competition. I don’t know when the happy couple of healthy sportsman comradery and overindulgent binge drinking became a thing, but it seems that the two have a blissful union that cannot be tarnished. A Wednesday night “social” consists, at least in the netball world (because lord knows what happens to the likes of rugby, lacrosse and hockey for example), of plentiful drinking games, a fancy dress costume fitting to the theme of that week and some sort of embarrassingly hilarious stunt in the student union. Having a ‘rest-day’ on a Thursday has never been more crucial.
The CV Spinner
Now I’m at an age where every little thing you do, if it can be, needs to be spun somehow in your favour for the infamous CV. Duke of Edinburgh: shows perseverance, shove it on there. Part-Time job: highlights your ability to work, pop it on. Killed somebody: shows skill, get it involved. Being part of a sports team is no different. The words ‘teamwork’, ‘determination’ and ‘hard-working’ are ones that you draw out from your experience playing in a sports team to show how much of a fantastic worker you will be. It’s an easy answer to the question of what your interests are outside of your education, and it almost becomes a rehearsed script. If something you genuinely enjoy doing can also help you with future prospects, then why not? The laborious task, however, of spinning this web of deceit, selling yourself as a well-rounded human every time the question, an application or a re-draft of your CV comes up is one which you will get sick of. But I’m told it helps with future prospects.. so I guess we should keep on spinning!
So there we have it. Some unexpected wistful notes of things that I have picked up during my time of being in a sports team. Having the opportunity to be part of a team, playing sports, is something that I am eternally grateful for. In spite of the sarcastic comments, I am so thankful, during the times when I am stressed out, for the opportunity to put my mind towards something else for a little while and just have a laugh with some gals. My progress towards having the body of Kim Kardashian, however…. to be confirmed.
With thanks to Lauren Wylie
