As a child, I was never particularly interested in sports. I didn't play sports, I didn't watch it, and I didn't know much about it, nor did I care to, for that matter. I vaguely remember taking part in a few sack races for sports day or during P.E. class, but that was it. Later on, while in high school, the disinterest didn't change much. However, during the Olympics, I would watch gymnastics, diving and a few of the field events. I attended sports day at school mainly to hang out with my friends and occasionally cheer for my house. When I started university, I was almost back to square one. I had no business participating in sports events, but if I hadn't, I would not be able to write about it now. Keep reading to find out how one impulsive decision turned into a hilarious and slightly painful memory.
Team Player
In my second year at university, I lived on a hall of residence. Although it was a short stay, living on campus was one of the highlights of my college years. I made the most of my time on hall by being involved in several activities. This helped me to ease out of my shell a bit, as I was always on the shy side. When it came down to supporting my team during inter-cluster competitions, I was always ready to help out where possible. I remember taking part in the dancing, decorating, drama, and even drawing (I mainly helped with the shading)competitions. I left the sports competitions to the pros.
Sports Day
On hall, they hosted multiple activities and competitions which encouraged interactions among residents, whether with our cluster mates, our sister cluster or zones. There were four zones, and each zone consisted of about three clusters. It was Zone Sports Day, and for some reason, participation in our zone was a bit low. We wanted to win, so our cluster members stepped up and volunteered to take part in different events of the day.
As I mentioned before, sporting activities and I go together like oil and water, we don't mix, but as a true trooper, I thought 'What the heck' and did it for the fun. I initially opted to do two events, shot put and long jump, but somehow I ended up being the 3rd leg in a relay race, which I had no business doing. Back then, I could walk at a brisk pace for minutes on end without breaking a sweat, but for some reason, running for a few seconds would leave my lungs feeling like they would explode. That hasn't changed much these days.
The Long Jump Debacle
My first event of the day was the long jump. My expertise in this event lay solely with what I saw on TV and what the competitors ahead of me did. I had no practice, but in my mind it was quite easy. Just run and jump...right? If wrong and strong was a person in that moment, it would be me. We each had three turns to jump, and points were awarded accordingly. My first two attempts were fouls. I believe it had something to do with stepping over the takeoff board.
Then it was time for my final attempt. I didn't want to mess up, so I tried my best to focus this time around. I took off, and this time it was perfect. I leapt into the air and landed on both feet. In the next instant, I was sprawled facedown in the sand. Don't ask me how it happened because I would be lying if I said I knew. I quickly got up and brushed the sand from my face before the embarrassment set in. I wanted to disappear, but laughed it off awkwardly. I quickly exited the sand pit, but not before hearing that I gained a point for my team. Yay me...I guess.
Shot Put
I left the long jump area and made my way to the next event. If you know anything about shot put, you know the metal balls are heavy. Although I threw it with as much strength as I could muster, I only managed to gain one point for my team. The first two throws didn't even qualify, but once again, I came through at the last minute. Thankfully, we had one other team member who participated in the event and gave us a fighting chance. Too bad her coaching didn't help me much.
Relay...Really?
By the time the relay came around, I was sore and exhausted. I was the third leg, so I waited patiently for my teammate to hand me the baton. One by one, other teams raced ahead, their runners already handing off to their anchors. When my turn finally came, I took the baton and did my best. I felt awful passing it to our final runner, knowing she had to finish the race alone. Of course, we didn't win the race, but I managed to run my leg without falling or dropping the baton. This was an accomplishment in my book. I left that race feeling a lot better than I did after the long jump, with my dignity intact.
Wrap Up
By some miracle, our team was victorious. We won two celebratory cakes, and I think I got a slice for each event I took part in. I ate those three slices with the pride of an Olympic champion. They were well deserved. We all had a good laugh about my sporting mishaps. Although I could never claim athletic prowess, I managed to help my team to a sweet victory. That day, I learnt that you don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it or to make it count. Just showing up and giving it a go is a win in its own right.
Have you ever had an embarrassing moment during a sporting event? Tell me in the comments below.
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