Playing with balls...

I've been blessed with a lot, in retrospect.

A great brain, a sense of humour, lots of (naive) affection for people, a generally stand up disposition...some people call me good looking (though at least one was drunk at the time)...but one thing I've never, ever had the faintest wisp of is sports attentiveness.

Ever since I was little, when parents put their kids into summer sports like soccer or baseball, I sucked. No matter what I did, I never ran fast enough, had enough coordination or know-how to succeed. And really, being a guy, this is something that doesn't make life easy.

Especially in the middle youth years, when everyone is on some team, either playing baseball or tennis or rugby...I simply could not produce any positive results. My mere presence was enough to send the team into disarray, and no matter how much I would focus on the objective, I could never seem to manipulate whatever ball we were using to do my bidding. As if God had smited me at birth, I could not pitch, catch, kick, hit or otherwise move a ball in the proper direction.

I remember one 'sport' I was good at, shot put. Way back in grade 7, we used to be put through these exercises in school to see who would represent us at the regional athletic competition. As far as I remember, everyone participated and tried out for a variety of things. I did my usual circuit, failing miserably at each, with sympathetic teachers smiling at me and wishing me better luck next time.

Finally I arrived at the shot put station. I grasped the metallic ball, motioned back and heaved it forward. To my great surprise, it went rather far. My friends, standing in back of me, burst out with cheers. Everyone was a little astonished that Steve had actually done something credible in the sports world.

Sadly, the bastard running the shot put station was the head gym teacher. While he was mildly impressed, he ended up passing me over for someone else because, to my knowledge, he didn't really like me because I was terrible at sports and wanted a more favored member on his team.

A few years later I picked up my one true sport: skiing. I love bounding down the side of a hill, carving across powder as the wind stings my eyes. Surprising even to me, I love the exhilaration of speeding across the snow. Finally, I had found one sport-like activity I was good at! Probably the main reason I enjoyed it, other than actually developing some semblance of skill, was the fact it didn't involve anyone else. It was just something I could do on my own, without a team to let down.

Still, this doesn't help. During Frosh week two years ago, when everyone went outside to play some sort of football, I simply smiled and declined the invitation. Lots of guys I know still attempt some sports, and even some girls are avid hockey players. But knowing that I can't pull any of these things off is awkward. I would say it's emasculating, but that's not really the case, because I don't think that a woman who's capable of outskating me makes me less of a male. It's just socially irritating.

Apparently my handicap even carries over to the digital world. A few weeks ago I played with a Nintendo Wii for the first time, amazed at the bowling, tennis and other sports that people were playing. I got a feel for the controller, and challenged my friend to a match of tennis. The game passed by, and I failed to score a single point.

We played a rematch, where my defeat was only slightly less embarrassing, with my scoring one point before the game was quickly finished. "Shit," I muttered.

My friend looked at me and smiled. "Dude, you kinda suck."

"Not only can't I play sports in real life, I can't even do it in a video game."

We laughed and played a few other of the sports games, but ultimately I failed at each one. I guess it just goes to show some people are given many gifts, as well as a few deficits.