There’s something about competitive sport that is exhilarating. Even casual  sport comps have that element of fire-in-the-belly excitement.

Possibilities: Will we win? lose? draw? Who will lose their temper? Will the ref be fair? What exactly are the rules here?

I play a multi sport competition with around 30 other mummies. Each week it’s a different sport: netball, basketball, volleyball and futsal (indoor soccer).

This comp can range from totally casual to intense. Volleyball is fun. Even the best teams strike out on this one. Basketball is scary. There’s almost no rules with this game. Tempers simmer, people get injured and the pace is fast! For the old bones, this is a tricky one. There’s no time for good humoured laughter. Too many puffed 25-50 something year olds. No time for banter.

Then we get to futsal. This is my bad mood sport. I don’t do foot sports. I get so frustrated that I can’t control the ball that it puts me in either a silly or foul mood. However, I have found my new position as goal keeper. This allows me to pick up said ball and throw it where I want it to go. Very nice. We recently won futsal 4-0 (we NEVER win) so futsal and I have  a new respect for each other.

Netball, my lovely netball. For me, this is like riding a bike. I don’t have to concentrate on the rules. I know them backwards, in-side-out, and up-side-down. My lovely netball. It also uses my height nicely (I always wondered what that was for).

Ah life. Competitive streaks are often frowned upon. People are often intimidated, scared off by people of the competitive nature. Well why wouldn’t you be when the word competition is defined as, “willing to oppose” with synonyms such as, “aggressive, ambitious, antagonistic… cutthroat…killer instinct” (thesaurus.com).

In a sport sense, these attributes are handy. Not in the cutthroat way, but sport is tough and it requires comittment and strength. Sport is the ultimate outlet for those competitive feelings simmering beneath the surface. It’s a positive use of aggression. And no better place to release these that with a bunch of well intentioned, good humoured mummies.

To sport, my passion, my punching bag, my outlet, I raise a glass of luke warm water to you, suck it down in big gulps and say… “Thank you for being a friend”.

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