Last night I played my very last netball match for Sefton Stingerz. Belle drew a picture to mark the occasion.

Netball

I’ve been playing netball in Bristol for about two and a half years now. It was something I thought I would try after we moved here, a way to make a few new friends, and I never for a minute imagined I would grow to love it so much. I’ve never been a sporty person and it took me completely by surprise. I also never expected to make such lovely friends.

At our training session yesterday morning I was taken by surprise all over again by the trouble everyone had gone to – I had a card, flowers, a signed ball and even a cake, freshly baked before our 9am practice! I genuinely wasn’t expecting anything, and may have had a little tear in my eye. I was so touched though, it was hard not to feel emotional.

Netball

I’ve talked before about the difference netball has made to my life, so I’m not going to bang on about it, suffice to say that I will miss it a lot when I leave Bristol. I’ve been made to feel so welcome, made so many new friends and discovered skills and a passion for a sport that I never thought I would find.

Our final match last night was the most enjoyable match I have ever played. We were beaten rather conclusively by a fantastic team but we played our hearts out, had a cracking gaggle of supporters on the sideline (including Belle, clacking together her crutches) and I sported a rather fetching side ponytail. It was ace.

Thank you to Sue and to all the Stingerz for helping me create such wonderful memories!

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There are plenty of things that I know I am good at. I can design a nice spreadsheet, I can string a sentence together and I can make an excellent origami shrimp. Even things that lots of people struggle with, like public speaking and appearing on camera, aren’t especially daunting for me.

There are other things though that I recognise have never really been strengths. Cooking, cleaning, staying up past 10pm – none of these I have ever been great at. Sport is the other one. Some people just seem to be built for it – they have a natural grace and coordination that means they can just stick their hand out, without even looking, and catch a ball. I lack this. The last time I attempted to swim Belle said I looked like a sea lion having a fit.

I am OK with this. I accept that I can’t be perfect and that it doesn’t mean you can’t have a go.

I have been playing netball now for nearly two years and I really enjoy it. It proved to be a fantastic way for me to make friends when I was new to Bristol and in a bid not to be the slowest and sweatiest on the court it has even kickstarted what is sure to be a hugely successful running career. (I can now run for five whole minutes non-stop, a massive achievement for me.)  View Post

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On all of my school reports my teachers refer to me as a ‘natural leader’. By this they mean bossy. ‘Not afraid to put her own ideas forward’ clearly means mouthy.

This is one of the reasons that playing netball has become so important to me over the last 18 months. I have always been a little competitive, wanting to be the one in charge, but being part of a real team has softened that and I think made me a better person because of it. I’m not saying I would do anything ridiculous like let one of my children win at a game or anything – let’s not be silly – but I have definitely noticed a shift.

To be honest I haven’t had much choice other than to find joy in the taking part rather than the winning – we didn’t have the most impressive opening season – but that’s OK, because actually the joy is in the taking part. View Post

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I woke up in a grump today.

I kept having these annoying dreams about Christmas decorations. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud, but it was really annoying at the time. You know if you’ve been really focussed on one thing all day, like spreadsheets, and then you dream in a weird Excel format?*

Well I had the same thing but with woven paper hearts. I kept making them, but something was wrong with them, and I would wake up feeling all twitchy about it. I’d lie back down, telling myself not to dream about any more decorations, but then there they’d be, all weird and papery in my head. It was quite frustrating.

Fortunately, Monday morning in netball morning. Netball works very well at clearing my head of anything other than scoring goals and trying not to run into people, and was just what I needed to rid my brains of paper chain nightmares. It was also rather fun as it was the first session after our Christmas night out on Friday, so we got to do all that ‘morning after the night before’ stuff – ‘Jo! How are you feeling! I loved it when you stood on that table and made that speech! What time did you leave the Tennis Club AGM after party?’

That sort of thing.

All the ingredients of a perfect netball Christmas party

All the ingredients of a perfect netball Christmas party

So, after an hour of charging around, getting so hot and sweaty I was steaming up my glasses, I felt much better, and was not at all intimidated by the paper hearts when I got back home.

One question though still remains from Friday night.

What do we call our team?

We play from a local primary school – Sefton Park – so on the table at the moment are things like Sefton Scorpions and Sefton Park Panthers, but we have yet to hit on a name that has made everyone go ‘YES! That’s it!’

This is where you come in. Do you have any suggestions for a netball team name that implies a blend of feminine strength and sharp shooting?

Leave your comments please…

*Please say this isn’t just me being MAD.

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I’ve been playing netball since January. It was, like many of the new ‘hobbies’ I take up, a bit of a whim, but much to the surprise of all my family, not least myself, netball is a hobby that has stuck.

Something happens to me when I play netball that doesn’t happen with anything else I do. I’m sure for lots of people who play sport regularly this is nothing new, but I can honestly say that until netball, not in 34 years did I find a sport that made me feel this way, so to me it’s something worth talking about.

When I play netball, my head empties of everything else.

This in itself is an achievement, as I normally find it extremely hard to think of just one thing at a time for more than about 30 seconds. Even writing this I’m half compiling a shopping list in my head, half watching Wimbledon, half fancying a cup of tea… You get the idea.

When I play netball though, there is nothing else.

I don’t notice it so much while I’m playing, but I know it happens, because within minutes of leaving the court I feel all the thoughts flood back in again. ‘Oh!’ I think to myself. ‘There you are!’

Normally I’m pretty lazy, but when I play netball, my body sprints and jumps without me having any say in the matter. Half way into the session, I am sweating, red-faced and breathless, but I don’t want to stop. Last night, when there were too many teams to all play at once, I waited impatiently on the sideline for my turn, puffing and panting and rubbing the sweat from my face.

When I play netball I don’t think about how I look, or what I’m wearing, or even really how good I am – I just think about getting the ball, and scoring a goal.

When I’m doing other things, I always have an awareness of time, but when I play netball, the end always sneaks up on me – ‘Really? That can’t be an hour already?’

It’s no wonder really is it that the netball fade has lasted longer than the origami animals?

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I was going to write something today about being rubbish at netball, but then I only went and scored a bloody hat trick didn’t I?? And I was only Goal Shoot for ten minutes.

I think it was a fluke though, and the moral of the story still stands.

At the beginning of this year I started playing netball. I was always hopeless at sports at school, so don’t know why I imagined I’d be any better 18 years and two children later. For some reason though, I thought the fact that I am now a grown up woman, running her own business and able to hold a conversation without blushing would make a difference.

It doesn’t.

I am still rubbish. (Apart from the hat trick. Did I mention that?)

I have decided though that being rubbish is OK.

That may seem like an obvious statement to make, but personally, I find it really hard to do, let alone enjoy, things I think I am ‘bad’ at. I tend to believe that if I’m no good at something, there’s either no point in doing it, or that the people I am doing it with won’t like me.

I know it’s silly and possibly a little pathetic – I certainly don’t dislike people just because they aren’t the best at things. If anything, I like them more because I’m not intimidated by them, or worried about showing myself up. You’d think too that I’d have learnt after years of getting all the answers right at school, but being virtually friendless, that no one likes a smartarse.

In my mind, not being good at something means people won’t respect me, which is why playing netball is so good for me. Imagine the episode of Friends where they are playing football for the Geller Cup, and everyone keeps telling Rachel to ‘go long’. Quite often I feel like that. ‘Here!’ I shout, and my team-mate will look at me, standing in a massive space, wince a bit, and instead throw the ball to the player half way down the court, who is being marked by three people.

This is OK.

*mild panic attack*

No really, it is.  Not being the best isn’t the end of the world. Not knowing the answer to something doesn’t make you an idiot. Missing the goal won’t make people hate you.

It’s a lesson I need to learn, even if it’s probably about 25 years too late – on court or off, it’s OK to sometimes drop the ball.

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I have a sports injury.

*dramatic pause*

OK, OK, I have a grazed knee, but still, I did it playing an Actual Sport, and it quite hurt at the time, (although I was very brave and didn’t cry), so I’m calling it a sports injury. Perhaps I should get a massage?? David from Future Focus says that “sports massages are critical to overcoming any kind of muscular injury, addressing your aches and pains all of the body.”

Friends and family will be laughing now at the idea of me playing any kind of sport, let alone putting in enough effort to sustain an injury, but they can laugh all they like, for I am pleased to announce that at the age of 33 I have finally found a sport that I enjoy. Never having been able to maintain any sort of physical activity for longer than a few weeks before, this is something of a revelation for me, and an achievement therefore to be celebrated.

My sport of choice?

Netball. View Post

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