Going All In Is Not Always the Answer
A reflection on muscle memory, middle aged sports-playing, and what a non-contact game might have to teach me about how to live life.
A couple of weeks ago, I played netball for the first time in roughly 25 years. I’d been considering trying some kind of sport again after longstanding health issues. Then I discovered we have a local netball team in our village, and that it was only a five-minute walk from our house. It seemed too convenient not to give it a go.
So I went. On a rainy Tuesday evening after work, I put on some sports-appropriate clothing, donned a coat, and walked the two-blocks to the park.
For those reading this in Texas, or other places where netball doesn't really exist, imagine a game that is a bit like basketball but you can’t move with the ball and different players are confined to different areas of the court.
They are a fun group of women. It’s a mix of competitive and recreational, so all are welcome. While younger me would have firmly been in the former group, the present me is definitely the latter. It’s too much adrenaline to play team sports competitively (in truth, I can’t even watch England team sports any more because I find it too stressful).
As for my performance, it turns out I wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I have some transferable skills! Throughout my life I’ve played football/soccer and I’ve only ever been a goalkeeper. So, I know how to throw, I know how to catch, and from years of yelling at my defence to sort themselves out I know a bit about creating space on-field. It felt good!
My first go at netball in the middle of my life was, dare I say it, fun.
However, there was one issue.
Netball is a firmly non-contact sport: you have to maintain at least 1m distance from players you’re attempting to block. Now, anyone who has played football/soccer (or seen me play), knows that goalkeepers are only effective if they fully commit. Go all in.
I have, throughout my football-playing career, fully embraced this role. I have had numerous injuries to prove it. That penalty box area was my domain and woe-betide any opposing striker or midfielder who tried to enter it. It’s an occupational hazard: as a goalkeeper you are the last line of defence. Of course you should give everything. (I will confess, I gave so much I had a very close friend and teammate who once confessed she was a bit scared of me on-field.)
But netball? Netball is firmly non-contact. So, my first time training with my village team resulted in a couple of whistles being blown in my direction. The first time, it didn’t even occur to me that I’d done anything wrong! The second time, I was also surprised, but beginning to realise there was an element to this game I wasn’t quite getting.
In fact, having to face the referee’s whistle felt wrong to every fibre in my being. My training tells me: if you’re going to commit, commit. If you’re going to defend, defend. Restraint is not a part of it. Go all in.
Now mercifully, I have come a long, long way from my goalkeeping days even though it’s still written into my muscle memory to give everything. I really did enjoy playing. By the end of the training, I left happy if sore and bloody. While it’s not a contact sport, I gave my all to a long pass, wiped out, and managed to graze both legs through my leggings!
As I walked home, I pondered: will I go back? It’s convenient, local, they’re a friendly bunch, and I did pretty well, considering. But on the other hand, do I really want to re-learn how to play a non-contact sport? What if I'm mediocre? Can I unlearn old habits? Aren’t I too old and my muscle memory too ingrained? As a teenager, I was pretty good at all the sports I played. Never the top athlete, but good enough to be valuable. I’m in my 40s now and it’s a different story. Do I want to face that I have some things to learn about boundaries, limits, and playing for the good of the team?
My answer is, I think, that I do. Because life is much more like netball than it is being a goalkeeper. As a goalie my mentality was that everything depends on me (because it often does) and if I don’t get it right, we’ll concede a goal (which is often true). So I would go all in and not worry about the consequences. But I’ve come to learn that life is more like netball. It’s a team game. I have a part to play, but there are also parts that are not mine. And there are limits on what I can do to succeed. Games might be lost. The opposition might score. And that’s okay. At the end of the day, it’s not the winning that matters, but that I have lived well and been faithful with the role I’ve been given to play.
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Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash
