Recreational Limitiations
Readers, we have quite the array of recreational games here at the Gray-Colton estate, Lalakea, Hilo, nearly all inherited from the previous tenants (Eisa's family). We have outdoor pool and ping-pong, the latter a homemade and hand-painted but surprisingly true-bouncing affair. We have bocce ball and golf clubs. We have frisbees and basketballs and tennis rackets. We're in the market for a badminton set. We have the ocean for swimming and meeting local characters. We have a cabinet full of fishing reels, snorkels, and boogie boards, though I haven't used any of those yet (and frankly, they intimidate me). It's a fantastic chance to play in the sun and get a little exercise.
[BREAKING NEWS -- biting red and crawling on my laptop screen. I can't remove it without mashing it into the screen or risking an irritating itch. More later.]
So anyway, I'm doing a fair amount of playing silly games outside, and I've noticed a disturbing trend. Now, I was never much of an athlete. In basketball, I was famous for being told by the coach "Jeff, you'd best not dribble" after the team had elected me to lead them out of the lockerroom, with a ball, for warmups. My other basketball innovation was the shoulder-shot, a shot where I tried to take the ball back behind my shoulder before shooting it, even though at 76 3/4 inches I should be able to shoot over most anyone. I have further graceful exploits that I won't get into here (I made my nose crooked by hitting it with a tennis racket; I can't squat down without falling over, etc.), but I like playing sports, and with a little persistence I can generally hold my own and have a lot of fun.
But now something terribly frustrating is happening. I start out playing the game, whatever game it is, decently well, at least by my standards. Let's make this specific and talk about golf, because golf is a great example if you're going to talk about something annoying -- I've played twice and been to the driving range once since I've been in Hawaii. So in golf, "decently well" for me means hitting the ball straight and in the air two or three consecutive times. Both times I played, I started out doing that. I hit the ball straight, if not far, and even chipped rather effectively, if not terribly accurately. Putting felt natural, and I was having fun. But then, around the fourth hole, both rounds, things went to hell. Shanks, whiffs, tops, hitting it off the toe, the heel, chipping over the green, losing balls, you name it. For the last fourteen holes -- and that's a long time -- I couldn't do anything. I went from passable novice to never touched a golf club before, and I did it in a couple of holes, and when I went bad I stayed bad. This happened both times I played golf, and at the range.
But, lo! It wasn't only golf. It happened at ping-pong, where I rallying around I felt natural and smooth, and even beat Aidan in the first game. Then I started losing to some ladies who shall remain nameless, but really aren't very good table-tennis playerettes. Then I played Aidan again, and got skunked. And it didn't feel natural anymore -- I couldn't hit the table, couldn't serve. The same thing even happened to me, can you believe it, in bocce. By the third game the other day, I couldn't get within a menehune-length of the damn target ball.
So forgive the boring litany of evidence of my recent athletic struggles (I even got a little bored writing it), but there is an interesting phenomenon at work here that I want to understand. How is it that after warm-up and practice, and before I can get tired (ping-pong? bocce ball? they do not make you tired), my small amount of skill can disintegrate so quickly. Other people warm up, I freeze up. Other people learn to repeat their successful moves, I drive them out of my brain with great gusto. I want to understand this; it's plaguing my stress-free existence. Okay, it's not really plaguing it at all, but I'm pretty curious.
[BREAKING NEWS UPDATE -- biting red ant squished, no damage to squishing finger or monitor. Heavy damage sustained by ant.]
[BREAKING NEWS -- biting red and crawling on my laptop screen. I can't remove it without mashing it into the screen or risking an irritating itch. More later.]
So anyway, I'm doing a fair amount of playing silly games outside, and I've noticed a disturbing trend. Now, I was never much of an athlete. In basketball, I was famous for being told by the coach "Jeff, you'd best not dribble" after the team had elected me to lead them out of the lockerroom, with a ball, for warmups. My other basketball innovation was the shoulder-shot, a shot where I tried to take the ball back behind my shoulder before shooting it, even though at 76 3/4 inches I should be able to shoot over most anyone. I have further graceful exploits that I won't get into here (I made my nose crooked by hitting it with a tennis racket; I can't squat down without falling over, etc.), but I like playing sports, and with a little persistence I can generally hold my own and have a lot of fun.
But now something terribly frustrating is happening. I start out playing the game, whatever game it is, decently well, at least by my standards. Let's make this specific and talk about golf, because golf is a great example if you're going to talk about something annoying -- I've played twice and been to the driving range once since I've been in Hawaii. So in golf, "decently well" for me means hitting the ball straight and in the air two or three consecutive times. Both times I played, I started out doing that. I hit the ball straight, if not far, and even chipped rather effectively, if not terribly accurately. Putting felt natural, and I was having fun. But then, around the fourth hole, both rounds, things went to hell. Shanks, whiffs, tops, hitting it off the toe, the heel, chipping over the green, losing balls, you name it. For the last fourteen holes -- and that's a long time -- I couldn't do anything. I went from passable novice to never touched a golf club before, and I did it in a couple of holes, and when I went bad I stayed bad. This happened both times I played golf, and at the range.
But, lo! It wasn't only golf. It happened at ping-pong, where I rallying around I felt natural and smooth, and even beat Aidan in the first game. Then I started losing to some ladies who shall remain nameless, but really aren't very good table-tennis playerettes. Then I played Aidan again, and got skunked. And it didn't feel natural anymore -- I couldn't hit the table, couldn't serve. The same thing even happened to me, can you believe it, in bocce. By the third game the other day, I couldn't get within a menehune-length of the damn target ball.
So forgive the boring litany of evidence of my recent athletic struggles (I even got a little bored writing it), but there is an interesting phenomenon at work here that I want to understand. How is it that after warm-up and practice, and before I can get tired (ping-pong? bocce ball? they do not make you tired), my small amount of skill can disintegrate so quickly. Other people warm up, I freeze up. Other people learn to repeat their successful moves, I drive them out of my brain with great gusto. I want to understand this; it's plaguing my stress-free existence. Okay, it's not really plaguing it at all, but I'm pretty curious.
[BREAKING NEWS UPDATE -- biting red ant squished, no damage to squishing finger or monitor. Heavy damage sustained by ant.]
1 Comments:
But bocce ball?
I understand what you're saying. My current pet theory is that on the first tee or the first throw, I'm afraid of looking ridiculous. Once that goes away, my performance suffers.
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