I spent all week dropping off and picking up my kids to/from their sports activities. I sometimes ask myself, why did I sign up each one of them to play two or three sports? I’m tired of driving around the city all week!
Then I remember one of my friends once told me that sports will keep our kids away from smoking and drugs. I hope 🤞
Yesterday, while driving, I was listening to The Moth podcast, scrolling down to see which title caught my eye. I read “March Madness” and, of course, being madly in love with sports and a huge fan of one sport storyteller, I quickly hit play.
The first speaker was Toya Chester, a basketball player whose dream was to score 1,000 points. Unfortunately, she had an accident while playing basketball and could not play again. During her college basketball career, she scored 994 points, just 6 points shy of her goal.
This brings me to share my story about why I love sports. Is it just a coincidence? The answer is no.
Many people love sports or a specific type of sport because they grew up in families that consistently watch sports or are surrounded by some athletes (family or friends perhaps.)
In my case, I was never surrounded by anyone passionate about sports. My family occasionally watched soccer and the Tour de France, but that was about it.
When I was 10 years old, I wanted to play karate, but my mom said no. I then asked her if I could play basketball, but she declined that as well. I understand why she turned down all my requests; she was struggling financially and knew she couldn’t afford to pay for my sports activities.
Years later, I was starting my first year of college and living in a dorm with two roommates. One gorgeous spring afternoon, we found ourselves with no classes, so we decided to go for a walk around campus. As we strolled, I spotted this huge gym right across the street from our dorm. It looked awesome, so I turned to my roommates and said, “Let’s check it out!” We headed inside and found out it was the college gym, so it felt like we’d discovered our little spot.
My roommates weren’t very enthusiastic about going to the gym since they didn’t enjoy sports. So, I decided to check it out again by myself.
The next day, I went to the gym. I saw a group of girls and a coach playing handball. I knew how to play handball because I had played in high school, so I approached one of the girls sitting on the bench and asked her a few questions about the team and the coach. I also inquired if they were looking for additional players. She replied that they indeed needed more players and offered to introduce me to the coach.
Side Note: In some countries, college players are mostly walk-ons. Due to limited school funds and the absence of offered scholarships, colleges do not recruit students athletes.
My journey began with handball, and I was filled with excitement as I played for my college team. I played as a defender, as I wasn’t very skilled at attacking. I enjoyed the challenge of running, dribbling, and preventing the opposing team from scoring.
Until the big season arrived, the coach asked us to have our parents sign the travel authorization form. Since we were all 18 years old, signed travel forms were required according to our college policy at the time. I knew my mom wouldn’t sign it. She had consistently declined my sports’ requests since I was a child, citing reasons like money, safety, etc.
My team embarked on a journey to various cities, competing against numerous colleges and absorbing the intensity of the games from the sidelines as I watched them unfold on TV. During that period, I felt overwhelmed by hopelessness, grappling with self-doubt and disappointment.
When my teammates finally returned, I was eager to rejoin them on the court. However, much to my dismay, the coach instructed me to sit on the bench. Confused and frustrated, I asked him for an explanation, but he simply ignored my question. Instead, he turned his attention to the other girls, raising his voice as he called them over to discuss the game plan. The moment felt surreal, leaving me with a heavy sense of exclusion and yearning to be part of the action again.
The next day, I went to practice, and he did the same thing, asking me to sit and watch only. I was really angry, but I kept it to myself.
The same thing happened the following day, so I yelled at him, I was angry! I asked him why he was excluding me from the team. He replied, “From now on, you are a substitute, and if I need you, I’ll call your name.
I knew that my coach lost interest in me since I didn’t attend out-of-town games. But I didn’t have another choice. I thought he would understand my situation.
He was so cold and harsh. Then he looked at the girl who had just started playing with us and called her to join the team, and he walked away.
I didn’t like it, so I walked to him and I shouted again, “But this is just practice! I can still play with the rest.” He turned around, looked at me, and simply said, “No.”
Maybe he didn’t like the way I talked to him. We then fought like cat and dog and it didn’t end well.
Something I learned throughout the years…a woman should use diplomacy when dealing with a man if she wants to get what she wants. 😉
I was very young, no diplomacy skills at the time.
I felt tears starting to fall from my eyes without my permission. I wanted to hide my feelings, but the tears kept flowing. So, I left the gym, went to my room, and let my emotions out. My roommates surrounded me, trying to calm me down.
One semester passed, and the next semester arrived when I received a note from him, the coach, asking to see me. I ignored his note and never went to the gym. He never saw me again after that, and I never played handball again.
The team competed against other college teams, and this time they returned with a silver medal. I was happy for them, but I felt as though I had been stabbed in the heart. I should have been with them; I wanted that silver medal.
One day, a girl from the team invited me to her birthday party. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that her parents were so proud of her that they displayed her silver medal in the living room, framed and hung on the wall. As I looked at it, I daydreamed about it, with my parents displaying my silver medal on the wall. It was just a dream, but I promised myself that one day, I would have children, and one of them would earn either a silver or a gold medal—why not?
I would display it in a large frame on the wall and add a note underneath that says,
“Dear son/daughter, Never give up on your dreams. Chase after them, conquer the mountains of challenges you may face, and pursue your aspirations, even if everyone else tells you no. Ignore the doubters and keep moving forward.”
…
You never know who might become successful. I was surprised to read about some famous athletes who were cut from teams.
Carolina Mom 