you're 20 years too late
apparently you can't start sports as an adult
I really didn’t want to write today. But I thought it was fitting that I do it anyway, because that’s a more accurate representation of life. This newsletter might not be as thoughtful or as deep as usual, but at the very least it will be authentic.
As my mental health took a dive recently, I’ve been trying to find the things that bring me joy - how very Marie Kondo of me. I realised that one thing I have definitely been missing is playing organised sport. I recognise that I am the kind of person who cannot play social sport, under any circumstances, primarily for the safety of others. I have a very particular case of white line fever and get super frustrated when I can’t do something, let alone when incompetent teammates can’t either. Which is funny because I’ve always leaned towards team sports. If I only had myself to blame, I wonder if that would be better or worse…
Someone dared me to take up ice hockey but after one session on the ice I was reminded that some things (many sporting skills in fact) need to be practised to be maintained. I have not been on ice skates long enough collectively to even acquire the skills needed to navigate an ice hockey match, let alone to keep them over the last decade. So as I failed to complete the warm up drills that 8 year olds in Canada do (thanks to a very handy instagram video), I decided to sign up for field hockey instead and take a bet on skill transfer.
NOW, I say this lightly because I have lost count how many times that people have tried to mansplain the lack of transfer between field and ice hockey. I get it. I can see where you are coming from. But this is my 21st sport. I am no stranger to the learning process (because a phd in skill acquisition doesn’t count for much these days), but there will be SOME transfer just because I am learning to manipulate a small moving object with a thin(ish) implement - a set of action capabilities that I have never explored before.
So, let me have this. I am not saying that field hockey will prepare me for ice hockey one day, I know that. I will need many, many, many, many more skating lessons before I can get there. But, I am learning to problem solve in this domain, the process of finding solutions, not performing them. Give me a moment, god damn.
(As you can tell, that line of conversation is tiring me out. It’s about to get worse).
I arrived at my first training session after enquiring with a local women’s Division 7 team. I had never been to the training ground before (which coincidentally, the Kookaburras played at the next night!?), let alone knew what to wear to the session. Thankfully the email said bring a mouthguard, shin guards and a hockey stick - that is the kinda explicit instruction I needed in writing for that moment!
The coaching staff immediately asked where I’d transferred from… and I was so confused. Was it that obvious that I was from the east coast?? And then I realised they meant what *club*. So I fumbled through something along the lines of “oh, I’ve never played hockey before”.
The shock was comical.
Nobody warned me about this.
They looked at me like I was mad.
“I have no idea what to do with you” is what finally broke the silence, and you know what, I think I prefer that.
I’m pretty good at working things out, I just need a nudge here and there to make sure that I’m not doing something that will put other people (or myself) in danger, especially when I don’t know the rules or how to hold the hockey stick…
I guess it’s not too often that someone shows up to training having never held a hockey stick before… let alone one that was bought for $5 on FB Marketplace like 48 hours ago. I wasn’t even wearing hockey shin guards, they were little football ones and thank goodness I positioned them well otherwise I would NOT have a shin bone right now.
I think my favourite reaction to trying to pick up hockey was actually from a colleague:
You’re 20 years too late for that.
I hate that sentiment.
In particular, I hate when sports think they’re special, but even more so when there is a legacy element to it. That only certain people can engage, that is reserved for those who are initiated.
If I was unsure about joining before, I was hellbent on it now, because there’s no better way to motivate me than to tell me I can’t do something.
It is hard enough to sign up for a sport as an adult. Especially when you’ve never played before, in a new city, where you can count your friends on one hand (But I love them to bits already).
It is even more difficult when sports think they are entirely unique and impossible to grasp, despite adults having to adapt every single day in many different contexts.
Yes, I know not everybody can do this in a sporting context like I can - I have dedicated most of my life to collecting sports like they’re scout badges.
But I also think the more that you perpetuate that idea that your sport is untouchable, the more you’ll be scrambling for participants. The conversation around “building the foundation of the pyramid through participation” kills me too.
Getting more people into the game can sound like a chivalrous thing to do - hey look at me, this sport is fun, come and try it. But what happens when you actually do try it?
The side eye for not having the right equipment, or the lack of drive to compete at an elite level, or the desire to play for enjoyment and not needing anything else… it’s enough to drive anyone away.
(“just trying to diffuse the tension”)
There is this underlying disdain for enjoying sport for the sake of it, to play because you enjoy playing. Even children cite ‘trying hard’ as one of the many reasons why sport is fun, why not for adults too? You can try hard and not be any good at it, that shouldn’t diminish your worth at all.
I think this sentiment is more dangerous than we realise, a rip that you don’t see until you’re a kilometre off the shore.
Criticising people for loving something, especially a thing that helps them move their body, or build their capabilities and get out of the house, should not be a power that sports can wield, and yet they do.
I think it’s worth remembering that the next time a stranger walks into your training session and just genuinely wants to play.
If this notion didn’t exist, if you could never be 20 years late to a sport, what sport would you play?
I don’t know about you, but I’ve got 22,821 days until I’m 90, and I’m not going to let that side eye stop me.
Awesome article Alex!
Good thoughts to think about participation is only part of the puzzle - the environment they participants walk into is key.
Alex, this is one of the saddest things I find about sport - the barriers to entry and the gatekeeping. Field hockey in particular is terrible for this, particularly how the only way children, teens and adults engage with it is through formal competition. We are about to begin our juniors season and there is so much tension in ensuring we have enough players in the correct grades, split boys and girls. I would love to be able to welcome a newbie jumping the fence asking to just join in. But that is lost in this professionalised, organised sport culture pervading from top all the way through to the bottom. I'm sorry you had this experience in the sport I love. But am sadly not surprised.