Field Hockey

I miss field hockey. Like, I really miss it.

I tend to get off easy the 8-10 other months of the year (depends if there's summer practice I was never invited to, and if the season runs late) and forget about how much I loved it, minus the back pain.

But then September rolls around (or August, that's even more painful since when they started such practices, I was never informed, never invited) and I'm reminded about how much I love the sport, hate the people and the coach. Kind of sucks living right beside a high school for this reason.

I still have the stick, the cleats, the shin pads, the everything, somewhere. Scattered through the house. I still remember the drills and the passes and my goals that I guess weren't as appreciated as I thought.

But more I remember the people, the coach. How because I didn't suck up to the people who were the coach's best pupils, I was hardly ever played (I'm not even joking, this coach has a long, solid history of doing this and worse). How I was supposed to know how to play on the field no problem when they played me once out of nowhere, and then never again. How that stupid #@$!% who I've never gotten along with thwacked me hard with her stick on stupid practice, for no reason I can really remember except that we hated each other.

And a bunch of other unpleasant things.

So even if I still could join up (I can't, not in the school anymore) I wouldn't.

As Xannie says, "It sucks when it's the people and not the sport that drives you away."

Indeed. And there's no field hockey clubs around here, and I'm not sure I'm confident enough to join if there was one.


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