Sweaty Pages

With World Cup going on, it really made me missed playing football. Apparently if you are an only daughter, you are not supposed to play football, or being all sweaty running around with the boys. It is not proper nor meant to be.

Growing up as the only girl, I did experiment with numbers of sports, the fun and less fun.

Before football, my brother and I played Badminton every weekends. I was not any good but I could hit the cock, shuttlecock. Then after a while we stopped, well I stopped, since I wanted to go with my brother for his football match.

Then, the football madness burned madly inside me. I was a centre back, but I wanted to be an attacker, but I was not fit enough, considering my legs were tad a bit too short, or a lot shorter than theirs. It was much better playing with my group of friends because no one bothers if you did not played in your position. Everyone just stormed after the poor ball. And running after it when it went over and trailed the streets.

After that, evidently, came the mother's intervention. She told me I cannot play with the boys no more and I should do something rather fetching.

It was Golf to her and Hell to me. I started learning it as soon as I turned nine. Every morning during the weekends, I had to follow my father to the driving range, and hit the balls. Those white hard balls mocking my masculinity. Fun was not happy to aligned itself with Golf. I believe that was when I really start hanging out with older people, hence, my lack of interest to hold a serious conversation with the peers. If I had not played Golf, I would definitely able to do such with the friends (they got the brain, I just got the ability to fake my understanding). And again, I stopped Golf but it was for the better.

Immediately after that, I followed my mother for horse activities and quit doing it. Then, the archery, but cannot stick to it due to the situational factor. Along the line came skateboarding and again, it let me down because my mother found out about me sneaking around to go and skate, and the friend moved back to the States.

With all those semi-ugly memories, I entirely ignored sports, until my brother decided to made fun of me for being a bum.

I knew I could only play football again if my left side is invincible. Damn ribs. And if I have new set of people to play along with.

Starting again is quite difficult as your hold body is used to the softness of the couch and crunchiness of the chips.

Though I am looking forward to start playing tennis just so I can stop myself from moping about how my arms are not as fit as my lower body.

Regardless, I still love playing football more than anything, even Sudoku. And man wants to be girls.