How you were, able to, build your own, self-confidence, playing a sport, compared to how the performances were, measured, based off of the numbered or lettered, grades in class, translated…
Since my younger years, I’d not been, agile enough for sports. When we played tag, I’m always, the it, because I got, caught too soon, and yet, it’d been, next to impossible, for me, to tag the next it, and I can, only glare at my classmates with anger, as they’d, run to my arms’ lengths away, calling out, “hey, come and get me!”, then, run off, in a jiffy; as my younger brother entered into kindergarten, although he’d claimed that he will have a physical of jumping ropes the next day, I’d always, suspected he was, making fun of my bad agility; or when I’d gone to the parks, saw the boys and girls, rollerblading, I’d asked my father to learn to rollerblade too—that was, one of, the few times when I wanted to learn a sport on my own, and yet, I’d, raised up the white flag, after falling down, one too many, times.
like this???
photo found online
Tag, jumping rope, rollerblading, all of these, seemingly easy to do activities, I’d, lost interest in, as I’d, kept on, not being able to, master the required skills to become, excellent in. As I grew older, the games that my classmates played became, more and more, complex, basketball, which involved the full body movements, and I can only, sit on the sidelines, and, help watch my friends’ stuff for them, or throwing the hoops on the side, where the smaller basket was located.
And yet, there are, the rare moments, of how there’s, one person short, and my classmate would run to me and asked, “Do you want to play?”, at first I thought, they were only, a man short, but as I started sweating away, when the two teams are engaged, in battle, I’d often heard, “Good pass!”, this sort of, an accidental, compliment, it’d made me thought, that my good pass, was equivalent to, making a basket. What I gained more from these courts, compared to in the classrooms, are the encouragements from my fellow classmates. Or, as I thought I was, only, a head in these games, I’d felt, someone looked on me with certainty, as he’d, passed the ball, to me, and told me, “hey, shoot!”, at that moment, the world fell, silent it seemed, with no one else around but me, and that, precious ball that’s, entrusted, upon me. So, the basketball games, aren’t a game after all, the courts became, a, classroom!
Whether it be in class or on the ball courts, there’s, no lack of this, enviousness, the mockeries, the cheers, an assortment of, responses, and yet, there’s no grade measurements on these, playgrounds, I thought, that this, is, why the adults, call it, a waste of time, but it’s, also, how the boys and the girls, found where their, interests are, and, set up the goals of, becoming something one day.
P.S.: as I wrote this article, although, I’d, taken from the writing assignments of the entrance exams this year, I hope that the readers won’t use this prose as an example of what they are putting down for their college essays.
And so, this, once more, exemplified, the importance of P-L-A-Y, not just for young children, but the older students too, it teaches them, to interact with each other, to work as a team, and it helps, build up your, self-confidence, to discover where you’re, excellent in, because in class, you may not be a straight-A student, but, on the ball courts, you may be, a S-T-A-R of tomorrow!
Life, the Obstacle Course 