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16 March 2007

I play football like a girl

The other day, I tagged along to play football with some of my guy friends. It was a beautiful evening. The air was full of rhythm as an orchestra played that evening. Black bird sang and across the street music floated from a house across the street. The breeze blew the piccolo and the sky through its blue, purple, and orange rumbled the percussion. The lead instruments were my footballer friends. Put-put- put, tap tap tap, POP was the melody. The music played for a long time, until parrots' gentle waltzes were replaced by the quick, sleek frottage of the rat-bats.

After a while, I sat down. It was not the fact that I was the only girl, or that my presents made the teams uneven, or that I no skill in the game (I was playing with some seriously skilled ballers). I had not played ball since my high school injury, but it was not fear of getting hurt that compelled me to sit down. I was not tired, but I was full. I felt like the frustrate saxophone player, too in love with music to play along with the part I was suppose to. I was too involved in the whole piece to flow in my own. I was happy to sit on the side and watch my buddies play. I enjoyed the concert that evening as a highly involved observer. I wanted to dance rather than play my piece.

Will I always be an observer now? Maybe, but that is not so bad. Maybe I am finally growing up or maybe it is something else....

(I was barefooted during the game, by the way)

6 comments:

The Queen said...

Players might not respect the observers, but if it weren't for the observers, who would preserve the memory of the play?

Observers are important, too!

Beth said...

That is what my mother used to say when I would ask her to come and play with me. But then, there is nothing truly wrong with being like my mother. She is awesome!

Leonardo Melendez said...

You make the experience sound much more interesting than it actually was.

I like that you share your inner feelings with the world Beth.

Sometimes one gets too caught up in the world that he fails to realize that every moment is precious.

From you, I'm learning to appreciate things.

Beth said...

It was more interesting then that. My words are limited to how I felt that day. Justice was not done

Leal said...

So you saw the beauty in football. When comparing football to a rose it goes something like this: In the distance you see how pleasant it is, but it is when you hold it in your hands that you truly see what beauty lies in the rose. Such is football, for now you have held it in your hand and seen the beauty, but you have chosen to look at it in the distance, for you have seen how pleasant it looks as an observer.

Beth said...

I forgot to mention that I am a basketball person....