Isa akong lampa – I am such a lame duck. When it comes to flying balls, I am some kind of dyslexic – in short, I can't see it. More often that not, I didn't hit the ball or worst, it hits me. That is why I never had a sport to speak off, or brag about. I tried bowling, but that involves calculation of some kind to hit the target, and I'm not that good at it either. If there are ten pins left standing, I wouldn't have a problem but two, three or four? Man, I wouldn't know where to release that damn heavy ball!
Way back in college, I was taking a nap at the Chess Plaza, which was very near a basketball court, and a ball hit me on the head! Am I lucky or what? I'm not even part of the game, yet the ball wanted to go my way. Speaking of chess, I can play that game. My Dad taught me and brother how to play chess when we were young. I never got to beat any of them, though. Me and my very best friends since my kinder years even played it during our lunch breaks. Yes, we were the geeky lot – spending time in the library during vacant periods and playing chess at lunchtimes.
My husband started playing badminton a little more than six months ago. He'd been egging me on to join him – to give it a try. And so I gave in, mid-February of this year, I finally said yes, warily. I went with him, but there's this fear running through my veins – pumping in my chest. I sat down beside the court, and told them that I'll watch them first – that I don't know how to play, so I must watch first. Oh, God they are good! They hit that shuttlecock like some repulsive little fly. I can't play like that! Not in a million years.
They then egged me on to join the game, assured me that it's easy – that they'll teach me. So I learned – something new – as I have never coaxed myself into learning something new for the past few years. My sweat started to trickle down the side of my cheeks; I felt the wetness on my back. Oh my, for the first time in the past three years I actually sweated – I have excreted perspiration! Not all because of the scorching heat of the sun, but because I exerted my body – burned some energy or fats.
After I started playing two months ago, I've been sweating it out every weekend. I'm not what one might call an *addict*, but I do get cranky whenever I missed a scheduled game. I'm still not very good at it, but I'm trying – my very best. A couple of weeks ago my husband told me, "I'm not sure what really happened, last week your performance took you two steps forward but this week, you took three steps back." I wanted to smash him like some repulsive little fly!
I still get hit by the shuttlecock though, but at least it doesn't hurt as much as a fast moving ball.
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