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Football and mountains

Balls on a football training pitch
Image: Pikist

Over the weekend, I played football for the first time in probably 15 years. I went with my neighbour who plays regularly after I signified an interest in tagging along. As much as I love the sport, I must say I was petrified at the prospect of actually playing. Most of the people who played at the field where my neighbour played had been playing together regularly for a long time; they all practically knew each other and were quite good at the game as they appeared quite competitive during games.

I had watched the guys there play before, they played like professional footballers. I was scared of playing in front of so many unknown people, I was afraid I wouldn’t be good enough, I was afraid at being laughed at, I was afraid people would form an opinion about me from how I played, I was just plain scared. My neighbour knew nothing of the trepidation I overcame to go for that first game; I decided it was a fear I had to conquer, this fear of judgment from other people.

The coach brought me in at the start of the second set, I played in a left full back position and my side conceded our first goal within 2 minutes of me coming on. What a disastrous blow to my already shaky morale. I shrugged it off and continued playing and after a few more blunders, I was sent up front to strike instead. That didn’t pan out too well either. After a team pep talk from the coach to encourage my side, I opted to continue in a full right back position.

Now, the thing is I was so scared of playing badly that I ended up playing badly, not because I wasn’t a good football player but because I was too preoccupied with what other people’s opinions would be. And so because of this, I was scared to take responsibility and avoided being too involved in the plays and attack build up. After the talk from the coach, I decided to just play my game, as I knew I was capable of playing good football. And my game did improve, to the acknowledgement of the coach and other players. Maybe not my best game but I definitely finished better than I started.  

This mere physical exercise had a more profound implication for me as a person. I had decided to overcome my fear of criticism to do something I loved. I’ll be honest, I felt a little bad that I didn’t play that well but then again I can’t begin to describe how empowering and liberating that game was for me. How many of our dreams are pinned down to the ground by our very own fears; how many ambitions are snuffed out by the toxic fumes of doubt?

My body ached like crazy after the game, but it was much needed physical exercise and much appreciated emotional nourishment. As I continued to reflect on the game, I was faced by another daunting decision, one I hadn’t given much thought to before now, which may well be harder than my decision last weekend; and that is the decision to go to the field to play again this coming weekend. And the weekend after that.


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