Being a Sport

It is my belief that within the normal span of our lifetimes, each of us is given an opportunity, one chance, a single calendar day to announce our arrival and prove the world what we really are capable of. And for each one of us, this blessing may arrive in a different disguise.

For some, it could be a heroic day on the battlefield while for some on a cricket field. It could be an office Monday for one or a box office Friday for another. An Olympic medal for a chosen few and perhaps, a school sports medal for its future recipients.

Sports Day at school was one such event that occurred every year with a promise of a fair chance to all who wished to make a mark amongst their peers. It gave the bullied a chance to set some scores straight and the chronic backbencher to prove why he deserves something other than canework and homework. It gave the Romeos a chance to sweep their would-like-to-be Juliets of their feet if they managed to swipe a medal or two. All this in full view of the entire school fraternity – maximum coverage.

Nevertheless, the significance of this day to my school life was as much as of the release of a saucy C-grade film to a Zen monk. The thing was, at a very early age, I had earned the ability to look at things from a higher karmic level. This allowed me to gauge the frivolity of such puerile gatherings and avoid them at will.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly the case.

Truth be told, how much I might have wanted to, I could never really find myself rubbing shoulders with the Sports Day hunks who could have easily made a fortune if they ever decided to sell all the metal they had earned for scrap. Plainly said, I could never muster the courage or the motivation to put myself through the ordeal of early morning jogs, unsympathetic diet regimes and truck load of tendon splitting exercises. Nonetheless, I always enjoyed watching the show from the sidelines with a bottle of Coke and a pack of popcorn for company.

Back in the autumn of 1996, it was that time of the year again. My mood was set for a similar showdown. Like a kid knowing the circus was about to come to his town soon, I had begun to anticipate the antics of a handful brave souls who would soon be running, hopping, skipping, jumping, throwing and catching their wits out over few circular pieces of metal, when...

"Sports Day is just around the corner!"

It had been a little more than a month since S14 had ‘moved in’ with me. Apart from the occasional tantrum thrown over a Math problem solving session gone problematic or some homework assignment not done as it was supposed to be or not done at all, I seemed to be enjoying her presence at large.

"What? Oh is it," I said, wondering why that was a reason to be so cheery about.

Though I had to admit that anything compared to the sight of our Science teacher prancing to and fro with a human skull in one and a thigh bone in the other hand was a matter of pure joy, I quite didn’t expect her to be so psyched about the annual Sports Day event. I mean, what did a bossy, geography-loving bookworm like her know anything about having fun? Huh.

Perhaps this year they might have declared a holiday for all non-participants, I thought.

"So, will you be participating?" S14 enquired, looking at me intently, her voice barely reaching my eardrums thanks to the skeleton show that was taking place a few rows ahead.

"Participating? Like in an event? Well, I really don-"

"I like guys who kind of sporty, you know," S14 interrupted, smiling cutely.

"I am," I said and paused, using the time to wonder what on earth was I doing, "participating, I guess."

"You are? Hey that’s really cool!" S14 chirped, sounding as excited as if I had just told her that I happened to be Ben Johnson’s personal trainer.

"Yeah, I mean, like every year, this year too I would be participating of course," I said, basking in my artificial glory.

Okay, I know I wasn’t correct, not even a bit, but then, what the heck? I could have even admitted to juggling chainsaws blindfolded while balancing on a rope tied over a pond infested by crocodiles, if that meant S14 showering compliments at me.

"So, what kind of sports are you into?" S14 asked eagerly.

"Uh, I am basically into the running and sprinting stuff, you know?" I said, using some time to think.

"You mean track and field events? Like athletics?" S14 asked, sounding tad suspicious of my claims.

"Yes, exactly, athletics!" I said, visibly glad you have been reminded of the term. "So you knew the word, eh? I just thought you might not know it hence I..."

"I just happen to know a few things here and there. I am pretty new to this field you see," S14 admitted, nodding her head.

Ha! Miss. Pretty-New-To-This-Field... You clearly have no idea how brand new I am to the concept of running for no particular reason, I thought and smiled to myself.

"I’ve been participating for only about three years now, that too only when my last boyfriend insisted that I should."

Something seemed to have exploded in my cranium - as our Science teacher told it was also called.

Three years? Last boyfriend? I suddenly found myself in a state of acute bafflement. Which of these two dilemmas deserved greater and immediate attention?

"P-Participating for the last three years?" I asked, picking the former as it seemed less personal and more relevant to the situation at hand.

"Yes, I know I should have started off early," S14 said, "I’ve only managed to represent my school at the track event twice before we had to move here, you know?"

What does this girl eat, I couldn’t help but wonder.

"My last boyfriend was the school sports champ, and hence I said I like guys who are into sports," she said, smiling slyly.

Now, I must admit I was starting to lose my patience over this ‘my last boyfriend’ thing. If her vocabulary allowed her to think of words like ‘athletics’, why couldn’t she just replace that term with something suitable? Like say, a ‘moron’ or a ‘twerp’?

"Hmm, that’s very good. I like people who are into sports as well," I said, hesitatingly.

"Really? Who is your favorite athlete?"

"My favorite athlete?" I asked, suddenly reminded of a similar predicament that I was in previously.

Now, what was this game called? Naming the Athletes? Why couldn’t we just stick to pushing pens around the desk or drawing x and zeroes like the good old times?

"Shall I tell you my favorite athlete?" S14 hurriedly offered, as our Science teacher replaced her last two skeletal artifacts with one that seemed to have originated from the groin area.

"Please do," I said, relieved.

"I just like Marion Jones! Don’t you like Marion Jones?"

"Oh yes, me too!" I said, determined to milk the given opportunity dry, "I totally dig Marion Jones. I think he’s a wonderful athlete, what skill, what pace, what-"

"Marion's a female."

"Yeah, what female, what... what?"

"I know what you are trying to do," S14 frowned, her voice turning into something that distinctly reminded me of not completing my homework on time. She had also choosen to look away from me and at the piece of groin.

"You do? I mean, I don't really get what you-"

"You remind me of my last boyfriend, he used to speak just like you."

Okay, I might not be all Mr. Clean here but I certainly didn’t deserve to be compared to that ‘my-last-boyfriend’ specimen. While S14 kept whispering to herself, I imagined beating the crap out of that jerk with the groin bone or the pelvic girdle as I soon learnt it was called.

"Each of you are the same, I should have know this before, I am a fool to think that you could be different, but no, you all are-"

"S14... S14..." I had to interrupt her, "I really can’t hear or understand what you are trying to say, could you please be a little audible?"

"I am saying I don’t want to talk to you. You must be a big Carl Lewis or a Ben Johnson fan but that does not mean you make fun of Marion," S14 hissed.

Fantastic... With very little effort, I had managed to hurt her feminist instincts.

Now what?

(To be continued in the next post...)