be aggressive, be be aggressive!

I am one of the most uncompetitive people I know, at least when it comes to athletics. In high school, I would leave my field hockey or lacrosse games not even remembering the score. If someone ran into me or checked me, I would apologize and move out of their way. Even as a child, my favorite part about rec basketball was that I got to wear these pink sweatpants my mom got me. I'm pretty sure I just made up dances on the court while the game was going and then would giggle if anyone ever passed me the ball.

I used to think this lack of aggression and competitive spirit was a good thing. I thought I stood on high moral ground, advocating that sports were really "just a game" and it's more about having fun than winning or losing. But I've come to realize that this personality trait is not due to my virtues - it's due to the fact that I am extremely pathetic.

I'm not competitive because I suck. I've never been good at sports, never will be. And because of this fact, I don't like to set myself up for failure. I act like I don't care about the game so that when I fail at it, I can just be like "well, I wasn't trying anyway! I was just having fun!" The whole thing is completely a defense mechanism so that I don't have to deal with my extreme lack of athletic ability. The only game I am competitive with is Apples to Apples, and that is probably because I am awesome at it and the chances of me losing are slim to none. It's taken me years to figure out, but I've finally realized it: I have sports issues.

Here's the kicker: I signed up for Racquetball next semester. I wanted to take Badminton because I just envisioned how old people like to play it and it is a fairly calm but entertaining game. When I saw that it was full, I thought, "well, racquetball is open! and it's pretty much the same thing, right?" Turns out: no. Racquetball involves being in a teeny tiny room where you are one-on-one with another person and a little ball is flying through the air at incredibly high speeds and people die playing it all the time. OK, I just made up the dying part. But me plus an intense fast-paced game is either going to equal hilarity or death. Probably both. Plus, this is a game you play by yourself. I've only ever played team sports where you can cower in a corner and just cheer on other people as they do all the work. Those racquetball courts are small. It may be tough to find a hiding place.

Maybe the class will be a good experience. I could use a little edge to my personality, maybe get in touch with a more aggressive-inner part of myself. That is my optimistic spin on this situation. But if the blog posts stop suddenly, you'll know it's probably because I met my end due to a high-speed racquetball smashing my brains in. Or because my complete inability to be sporty has finally caught up with me, forcing me to die of utter embarrassment and shame.