Go team! Do the sports! Get all the points!

As anyone who's seen me can tell from my Adonis-like physique, I've always been a pro at any sport I undertook. If you didn't catch the irony there, then you've never seen me.

Sports have never been my thing. Even watching them. I've always been a little intimidated by people who can analyze games while watching them and have a huge store of statistics that can call up at any time during any play because I've never been able to do that.

So it should come as no surprise that playing sports has never been my forte either. I never really enjoyed sports, which sometimes makes me wonder why I ever played them at all. Aside from intramural and church leagues in elementary school, the first real competitive sport I played was for my 6th grade football team, the PDS Crusaders. The Crusaders had been undefeated for a number of seasons prior to ours, so there was considerable pressure on us. Not that that made much of a difference to me, like I said I've never been that competitive. I guess the only reason I joined the team was because it was the cool thing to do. My school wasn't cliquey at all, but everyone knew who was on the football team, and that accorded them at least some measure of respect. So I didn't really care how we did; all I cared about was that people knew I was on the team. Pretty shallow, right?

I think I only got on the field for one play. I was like 3rd string tackle or something, but in one game against Briarcrest I got put in on a kickoff play. Man, I got lit up. Not that I expected anything different to happen, it it was still pretty embarrassing. I would have played a second play, this time in the championship game, also against Briarcrest, but I was too busy talking to my friends, and I didn't hear Coach Fruitt call my name. Briarcrest was actually the only team we lost to that year, both in the regular season and the championship game, ending our undefeated streak. I still remember the car ride home, sitting next to my dad, trying to hold the tears in, which I actually did. I told myself that I would cry when I was alone in my room, but I found out to my surprise that when I got there I didn't want to cry anymore. Go figure.

7th grade was no better than 6th grade. This time, I was on the swim team, which I only joined because my brother swam in high school. I said in another post that I hated swim teams because I don't like being told what to swim and for how long and how fast, which is true. I hated swim team, for that reason and two others. First, I can't dive, so the start of a race was always the worst part for me. Second, I was really self conscious of my body back in middle school, but then again who wasn't? I've grown more used to my body over the years, and I'm more comfortable taking my shirt off around people than I used to be. Probably too comfortable, if truth be told. It's actually a clever defense mechanism. If I don't try to hide my body from other people, that is, if I act like I'm okay with the way I look, then people can't make fun of me for it. I guess years of acting like I'm okay with who I am has turned into sincere acceptance of my body, but there are probably some deep issues still there. Anyway…

So swimming didn't do it for me. Neither did wrestling in 9th grade, which I only did because my dad wrestled in high school. Are you starting to see a pattern? I only played sports because of other people, which is probably why I hated them (the sports, not the people) so much. Well, one big reason I hated wrestling was Andrew. He was the athlete I knew I could never be. And I got the sense that he knew it and was never going to let me forget it. He was kind of an asshole to me. But then again, I was kind of an asshole to him. And maybe I'm just projecting, taking my hatred of him and tricking myself into thinking he hated me too because, if I'm being honest, I hated myself as much as I hated anyone else. Maybe I'm being too strong. Maybe hatred is too strong a word. I've gotten to know Andrew over the years in small group at church, and I know him well enough to know that he's trying to be a good person, so I shouldn't judge him too harshly. But a part of me has never been able to get past 9th grade wrestling. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I have some deep psychological issues and problems from my childhood that I haven't ever really been able to confront. But going back to wrestling, I knew I wasn't going to do it for much longer after I got pinned in 11 seconds in my only varsity match. Also, that's really the only time in my life I can point to and say I was definitely bullied. But, strangely enough, that never seemed to bother me.

It wasn't until 10th grade that I really hit my stride, sports-wise. I had decided I wasn't going to wrestle again, and I was looking for a sport to get me out of PE. And then, over the summer, I watched all six Star Wars movies in a row and decided I was going to fence. And let me tell you, fencing is one of the best decisions I have ever made. First of all, it was the only sport I stuck with, doing it sophomore through senior year. And it was so much fun! I got to sword fight people!

Many of my fondest memories from high school come from the fencing team. Like lining up all the new 7th grade fencers in the center of the gym and singing "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" before actually teaching them anything. Like the time I got a yellow card in a match for making lightsaber noises. Like the time I looked my opponent in the eyes and said, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." Like the time Drew, Ben, Elizabeth, Katherine, Steven, and I all went over to Elizabeth and Katherine's house and watched Tangled, which became a tradition for us. Like the time Drew, Ben, Elizabeth, Katherine, Steven, and I all want trick-or-treating. Like the time Coach Brad gave me a piggy back ride during my last tournament. Like the time Brad kicked Utkarsh and me out of practice for wrestling and messing around, so we went in the baseball training room and roughhoused for an hour. Like the time I visited campus last Christmas break and Abigail freaked out and ran over to me and gave me a huge bear hug.

I've some to realize that I loved fencing so much because I wasn't doing it for anyone else. I was doing it for me. And I wasn't worried about getting better; I was only worried about having fun. Even though I was never any good, that didn't bother me because I was fencing for me.