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So I was talking to my friend on msn today and he was recalling events of a recent soccer game he had, this reminded me of how much I utterly loathe the sport. He asked me why and at first I had no answer. I have hated soccer ever since I care to remember, and for no rational reason at all? After a while I finally figured out why, and because I have no other reason for this journal, I'll share it with you.
My family did a lot of moving around when I was young, I went to four different schools before I finally settled into one in fourth grade. Because of all this moving around I never really belonged to a sport or club, and seeming as many of the girls in my fourth grade class started soccer when they were quite young, I was hesitant to join. I was afraid that everyone would make fun of me because I didn't know how to play. As elementary school went past, this seemed to affect my life more than I thought it would. I couldn't have friends over because they had soccer. I couldn't talk about what happened at soccer the next day with my friends. I couldn't go to soccer parties, but above all, I didn't know anyone from other schools because I wasn't on a team of any sort. This, in my eyes, was the epitome of cool.
I tried to join the school team, but was too afraid of being ridiculed for not knowing how to play, plus I didn't want the ball to hit my face. Desperate for the same social perks they took for granted, I joined swimming. I met people from other schools and was happy, but none of my school buddies knew them, so it just wasn't the same.
In grade 6, a girl moved into my street who played soccer and we became friends. Another friend had a birthday party in the school gym to which we were both invited to, and to my great fear and dismay, we played soccer. Needless to say, I was mortally afraid of the ball, and was probably hit in the face. I sat out the rest of the time. The next day my neighbour's younger brother was making fun of me for crying when we played soccer. This brought up an interesting question, why would her brother know about something like this without him being there? I was betrayed by one of my best friends over a petty soccer match.
The same year in gym we had to mark ourselves for effort in a failed attempt to encourage us to shed ourselves of our insecurities. Popularity among the fifteen girls in our grade was established long before grade 6, mainly based on soccer friends. One group which I obviously was not part of. After someone rated their effort and left to get changed, the soccer friends would always say that the person deserved a higher mark and the teacher would change it. I was left with noone to give me a higher mark, and ended up with a B in gym, the only ugly, rancid B I received on my report card each term that year, and I hated it with every ounce of passion an 11 year old could muster.
This brings up another thing, I was just as much of an athlete as the soccer girls, if not more of one, because I swam. But such capabilities as swimming didn't show through in elementary P.E. The teacher thought they knew who played sports and who didn't so usually they gave them a higher mark based on that fact. I was left with no exemption because people didn't see me as an athlete unless I played soccer.
That, in unnecessary and rather tedious detail, is a look into my angst ridden childhood and why I have come to loathe soccer. If anyone actually read this, please drop a comment.
 Carltoast · Sun Jan 30, 2005 @ 05:37am · 3 Comments |
