Rubber Balls Are Attracted To My Head, But Not By Magic
I’ve never been into sports. I’m still not. In some cases, I’ve had an antipathic relationship to it. Maybe it’s due to my experiences. I was that kid who always got picked last, who took too long to run the mile, who could barely even do one chin-up–on a good day. Middle school was in some ways hellish because jocks made fun of me. In high school, I managed to avoid them in all my classes, but they got the last laugh anyway because as a band nerd, I was forced to watch their games–pouring rain or not.
Tomorrow, I’m heading to Vancouver to watch some Olympic games. Strangely enough, this is not dinging my antipathy meter. All I can come up with is that these are winter sports and I don’t have any particularly bad associations with them since my adolescence was spent in the south where there were a dearth of hockey players desirous of lodging pucks into my forehead. Well, except for figure skating–but for a totally non-athletic reason*.
I suppose I will enjoy these games, as a spectator, but I think I’m going to be more interested in the whole experience rather than outcomes of individual games. I will only be one among thousands. No one will care or notice that I am no sports fanatic. And that’s how it should be.
*Figure skating is just one of those things that competitive Asian parents make their children do. Like violin lessons and medical school. And it’s a reminder that I have to get away from all of this stereotype (because in many ways, my childhood was an Asian stereotype) and just go my own way. I could say more, but I should leave this for another post.