Sports - the non-formitive years

My Humble Sporting History - Part One

I found Morgue's history of sporting prowess (or 'being unco but in a good way') interesting. Got me thinking about my own past.... [picture my eyes glazing over, as I look happily into the distance and cock my head slightly - camera dissolves into a shot of little-fouryearold-Kate in her matching tracksuit, whistle in mouth, forcing her family to run around her home-made obstacle course made of polystyrene blocks and planks in the back-yard. Lighting has a sepia hue.].
Primary School

I never played sports at primary school. I always was vaguely surprised when my friends announced they were playing netball. When were trials??? It seemed to be some conspiracy I was being left out of. Suited me though. I hate getting up on Saturday mornings, especially when it's cold or wet outside. And I hated the idea of wearing a short little skirt that flicked up most of the time you were playing. It was my idea of hell. My thighs and buttocks were my least favourite body parts. I even heard rumours that your undies had to match your skirt. Ridiculous! I had tom-boy tendencies and could go for a year without wearing a skirt, easily.

I did, however, get co-erced into filling in for my older brother's cricket team twice. I had gone along to watch and they were SO desperate that they chucked me on the field. Now, they were playing against boys who were in the rep team. I could not yet throw over-arm. They stuck me waaaaay out near the boundary. I ended up having to bat, but luckily the ball whizzed past me and the wicket keeper, and me and the bumbling Stephan Tyler (who was best known for his love of handkerchiefs and bananas and had the honour of being #10 in the batting lineup to my #11) ran through for a single. Innings over. I don't think they made me bowl.

The second time I played, they made me bowl. Now, as I said, I couldn't even throw over-arm, let alone bowl. So I did underarms (how very Australian of me). The umpire and other team were so frustrated at my dribbley efforts that they encouraged me to just 'give it a go' with the overarms. I did. I think they bounced about four times before reaching the batter and were fairly wide. They didn't make me bowl more than the regulation six bowls. Then I had to bat. My dad was umpiring at this stage. I got bowled out, first ball. He said, 'Let her stay in the over', and I was subjected to two further bowl-outs and then the entire field coming in close and getting their hands ready for the lolly-pop. I did in fact manage to hit the ball on my final effort..... straight to a fielder. It was a traumatic experience I thought would never end.

Other than that, my sporting highlights from primary school were back-to-back wins in the wheelbarrow race, with me pushing Alice Moore along. We made an excellent duo. In one of the races, us and our nearest rivals got so carried away that we totally missed the finish line and kept going for about 50 metres before we started to make out the distant yells of everyone else telling us to come back.

Oh, and being in the house shuttle-relay. My dad was along to watch and was sitting with my friend. She pointed out that it was my turn, and my dad did a double-take, saying, 'That's Kate???? I didn't think she could move that fast!' I suck it up for the team, Dad.

To many people's surprise, it is true that I took ballet and gymnastic classes for a few years. Mainly because my friends were doing it and I had fantasies of being a ballerina-princess. Eventually I realised that my dreams of pink tutus were unrealistic (all we seemed to do was practise pointing our toes and skipping in circles, seriously) and being a heavy-set gangly tall girl made me not the best at such pursuits. My mother graciously let me quit. Before I quit, I remember dreading the ballet so much that I got home from school one day and dramatically lay on the couch for an hour, touching my forehead and moaning softly so that Mum would think I was sick and not make me go.... She played along. Looking back, I'm sure she was onto me.

I think my brother was not much more successful, although it was generally acknowledged that he was 'athletic'. He did cricket, soccer, gymnastics and jazz-ballet (wtf??). My parents' best memory was of him playing soccer as a wee lad. The ball was finally coming his way, and they no doubt starting yelling out, 'GO, DAVID! KICK THE BALL!'. He duly choose this moment to notice that his socks were falling down, and bent down to pull them up. Ball went past. He always was a day-dreamer, hence he had the nickname 'Neil' most of high-school (think 'The Young Ones').

My parents were reasonably sporty. Mum played goalie for the hockey team, Dad played soccer and softball and won a wee trophy at the University Games for karate. They must have been despairing at their children's lack of sporting ability.
TO BE CONTINUED