Blood was spilled this morning. Abuses flowed across as fast and as smooth as a pair of well rehearsed ice skaters. The tension on the field was palpable. In the winter chill, 10 sweaty bodies stood heaving, no mercy in their eyes, purpose in their posture.
It was just another basketball match. The expected spectators and the mandatory cheers were all present. For the teams,that did not matter, inconsequential, they might as well not have been. The only thing that mattered at the end of those 40 minutes, was victory.Whatever the price.
I'm writing this post sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the second quarter to end so I can replace the officer playing. It's our routine. 4 fouls or half-time, whichever comes first. I can feel the pills kicking in, drawing away the soreness and pain till only a memory of the hurt remains. It's been two weeks that I haven't been able to button up my left sleeve; two weeks since the hockey stick crashed into my thumb, leaving a fractured thumb and rendering it temporarily vestigial. There's a bit of movement now, but the pain-killers make it better. Why do this? Why risk damaging it permanently? Rest is always an option, it never is.
I see one of my men stumble, a dangerous foul by the opponent sends him reeling, almost crashing into the post. He's lucky his head doesn't ram into the iron post. His knee isn't so lucky. With a sickening crunch that I can hear at the side-lines he falls; team-members rush to check whether he's okay. He limps out to the side and sits in the chair beside mine, the agony visible in his eyes. Yet, two minutes later, crepe bandage in place, he ran onto the field; and went ahead to score 19 more points for the team.
Exactly why. How can I expect my men to play against the odds, despite injuries or imminent loss, if I give up? "Lead by Example" is what they always taught us at the Academy. Isn't a game somewhat like war? Two opposing parties, striving for victory, arraying forces against one another, strategising, willing to go to the extreme for a win. Anything for a win.
That's what I love about a game. Anything, just about anything for a win. The throbbing in the thumb and the fore-finger is now down to a dull ache and it's almost time for me to get in. Anything for a win.
It was just another basketball match. The expected spectators and the mandatory cheers were all present. For the teams,that did not matter, inconsequential, they might as well not have been. The only thing that mattered at the end of those 40 minutes, was victory.Whatever the price.
I'm writing this post sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the second quarter to end so I can replace the officer playing. It's our routine. 4 fouls or half-time, whichever comes first. I can feel the pills kicking in, drawing away the soreness and pain till only a memory of the hurt remains. It's been two weeks that I haven't been able to button up my left sleeve; two weeks since the hockey stick crashed into my thumb, leaving a fractured thumb and rendering it temporarily vestigial. There's a bit of movement now, but the pain-killers make it better. Why do this? Why risk damaging it permanently? Rest is always an option, it never is.
I see one of my men stumble, a dangerous foul by the opponent sends him reeling, almost crashing into the post. He's lucky his head doesn't ram into the iron post. His knee isn't so lucky. With a sickening crunch that I can hear at the side-lines he falls; team-members rush to check whether he's okay. He limps out to the side and sits in the chair beside mine, the agony visible in his eyes. Yet, two minutes later, crepe bandage in place, he ran onto the field; and went ahead to score 19 more points for the team.
Exactly why. How can I expect my men to play against the odds, despite injuries or imminent loss, if I give up? "Lead by Example" is what they always taught us at the Academy. Isn't a game somewhat like war? Two opposing parties, striving for victory, arraying forces against one another, strategising, willing to go to the extreme for a win. Anything for a win.
3 comments:
Good intense piece of writing...
Anything for a win...lead by example... :) Intense writing...
There are men. And then there are few men. Some would say that the winning separates them. But I guess it’s the grit and the want to win. Your post reminded me of this 'post it note' I had in my hostel room.
When we want to win this bad, we don’t care it if we fall. Bones are crushed to dust. If it means we fall on gravel and have to crawl through grime. Every bruise is worth the win. For timid souls neither know the pain of defeat nor the victory of achievement.
well written piece. :)
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