You may not know this about me, but I am becoming a sports junkie. This is something that has long been in the making.
I remember spending my youth holed up in my room on Sundays watching the Redskins and Broncos — two of my favorite teams. My love for sports extended beyond football though. I loved Wide World of Sports. It highlighted such sports as skiing and the seldom-watched log rolling.
I watched Nadia Comaneci win the Olympic gold medal. Every little girl wanted to somersault like her and be hugged by Bela Karolyi. Do you remember when the Olympics were held every four years…both the Winter and Summer games? I was thrilled when the Olympic Committee changed this so that there would be games every two years. Now I didn’t have to wait so long to be submerged in the competition.
I sometimes wonder where this love of sports came from. I am, by no means, coordinated. I can barely walk and chew gum at the same time. Walking across the stage at my recent graduation should have been an Olympic sport all on its own.
I stunk at tether ball in elementary school. Have you ever seen the movie The Benchwarmers? Do you remember the scene where Will Ferrell is playing against his father? That could have been me and any other kid on the playground. I used to get beaten quite badly. I’m not sure I ever really understood the rules. I don’t think I do to this day.
I did play basketball in high school. I spent more time on the bench than on the court. I only played when the team was either way ahead (and my entrance wouldn’t allow the opponent to catch up too quickly) or we were way behind, when all hope was lost anyway. I just did not function well under pressure.
Take the time I was on the court at an away game. Keep in mind that I went to a small, private school. To give you an idea of the size, the school only had one class of every grade, and my graduating class had 18 students. So, everyone knew everyone else…even at the other schools
So, I got buzzed onto the court. I was so excited! I finally got to play! I usually played point guard because I was so small. There I went, dribbling happily down the court.
All of sudden…
Pop.
What’s that, I wondered, just as my boobs gained their freedom. My bra strap had broken. These were the days before sports bras.
Now, I was covered up, and nobody could tell what was happening. But to a 16 year old teen, every crisis is magnified. I did what most teens would do.
I dropped the ball and went running down the court with my arms crossed over my chest, advertising the fact that my body was, quite literally, celebrating its freedom from that bench.
Yeah, I had not yet mastered the art of being discreet.
So, I ran down the court, arms over my chest, looking at my coach saying, “My bra strap broke…substitute me NOW.”
“What?” he hollered.
Typical man. Just didn’t get it. The entire gym sure did because everyone was laughing their heads off.
The rest of the night is a blur in my memory…thankfully. I think I eventually got off the court, and someone had safety pins and fixed me up so I could go back out there, red face and all. I never lived that one down either.
So, that being said, I really don’t know why I love sports so much. I think it’s because I do not possess such skills myself and can truly appreciate those who do. Also, having children who are quite talented also helps. It’s a safe bet that they got their sports genes from Mr. AuburnChick. (They got their brains from me, and you can advertise that all you want.)
Ok…you must be wondering…
What in the world has possessed AuburnChick to talk about this?
Well, I just spent most of the day watching Wimbledon’s men’s finals. Wow! What a marvelous display of artistry. It was one of the best finals I’ve ever seen, and as noted above, I’ve seen quite a few.
What I most admire is Federer and Nadal’s humbleness afterwards. The mutual respect they displayed are marks of true champions. Federer had won five straight Wimbledon trophies, beating Nadal during the last two years. He lost the first two sets and was prime to lose the third, when he dug down deep and pulled off one miraculous shot after another. It was simply amazing to watch.
Nadal, to his credit, never gave in. Despite two rain interruptions, he came back and beat Federer in the fifth set.
Wimbledon at its finest.
Throughout the six + hour match, I did what any other knitter would do…knit!
I am stuck on my Froot Loop socks and have sent out a couple requests for help on the heel. That’s what I get for trying to adjust a pattern. Remember that I don’t think well on my feet. Stick to the pattern, I keep trying to tell myself. But no, I have to try to challenge myself.
Silly girl.
Rather than sitting idly by, I pulled out that marvelous skein of Malabrigo that one of my KH friends sent me.
I began work (for the second time) on my Leaf Lace Scarf. It’s an easy pattern, but my previous attempt was with a similar yarn, almost identical color, and similar weight. For some reason, the first yarn didn’t go with the pattern. It was almost too thin.
Enter in the Malabrigo.
I LOVE this yarn! It’s the first time I’ve ever knit with the fabulous Mmmmmm. Now, I understand the reverence knitters ascribe to it. Simply winding it up (I have yet to buy a ball winder) was a sensory experience.
I’ve completed seven pattern repeats, and I love how it’s turning out so far.
So, sports and knitting. Two of my favorite things. Can life get any better?
I think not.
Filed under: Knitting | Tagged: federer, high school, Knitting, leaf lace scarf, lettuce, malabrigo, nadal, olympics, sports, teenagers, teens, tennis, wimbledon | 5 Comments »
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