I can’t
catch a ball, and was always the last to be picked for teams playing anything
at school. In fact, after a bout of pleurisy at 15, I had a note from my
mother, excusing me from P.E. lessons at school which included the magical
phrase
“Janice shouldn’t partake in PE lessons for
some time, owing to her health”.
I carried this around for the 3 years
remaining at school, and never partook again.
Somehow,
over the years I have become an interested spectator. I enjoy the atmosphere of
live football (soccer, and American football) matches, where I care about the
outcome….so Huddersfield Town getting promoted a division last season sparked
some interest. I have only seen one Green Bay Packers game live…..but it was an
incredible spectacle.
Even as a
stroppy 15 year old who hated sport, I recall skipping school to visit
Wimbledon, queuing for standing tickets in the days before centre court was all
seats, and then worrying about TV coverage and being spotted in the crowd when
I should have been at school. Lew Hoad turned and smiled at me, when I
applauded a shot on one of the outside practice courts in 1970. Now of course,
Nadal has replaced Hoad and Rosewall in
my affections.
I have
perfected the same half interested way of questioning my husband about his golf
games as my mother did when she pretended to care how dad had got on……however,
I find myself looking forward to the
Ryder Cup every 2 years.
Cricket has also become something of a
fascination. It’s the 5 day nature of test matches that I find absorbing. The
tactics, the pace, the rhythm, and recognising that even over 5 days, every
ball bowled is important….. it all has me hooked. Travelling to Sydney,
Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth to watch us lose and then win the Ashes over the
last few years has helped cement my interest. I haven’t been to a Brisbane test
yet….. something to be remedied I suspect. We’re off to India this November and
will include the Kolkata test in our travels.
So….the
London Olympics……
My father was an amateur athlete in his youth. During his national
service stint he spent time in Berlin (during the airlift…..another story), and
trained in the somewhat derelict at that time, Olympic stadium, used for the
1936 Olympics. This was the stadium where Jesse Owens upset Hitler’s applecart
by winning a couple of gold medals despite not being blond and blue eyed. Ironically,
my father, who loved athletics, missed the 1948 London Olympics as he was in
Berlin. Had he been at home, he could almost have walked to Wembley stadium
from his north London home in Hendon. So he missed London 1948, and died 5
years ago…..but as least he knew GB had won the bid to hold the games in 2012.
Dad, at the Berlin Olympic Stadium, 1948 |
We have some
athletics tickets, and have shared them out amongst our children ( those who
have managed to secure babysitting services for the appointed days) and will be
among the thousands of people held up in dreadful traffic and travel problems,
security nightmares, toilet queues, pouring rain, etc. etc……..but I am looking
forward to it.
So…..I’m not
interested in sport……except when I am.