A sporting chance

Remember how last week I bitched and moaned about how corny the Olympic opening ceremony was and how I think the Olympics are just one huge scam to sell Olympic-branded crap like that commemorative Vancouver 2010 Snuggie I just ordered? I mentioned that, right? Anyway, forget what I said. I’m a new man! I’ve got Olympic Fever! I’ve been swept up in the action! I’m on edge, I’m breaking out in sweats and I have strange circular rashes developing on my arms that look like the Olympic logo! Actually, now that I think about it, maybe some of these are just an anaphylactic reaction to that Dollar-store deodorant I just bought…

Either way, all’s I know is that despite my attempt to boycott the Olympics in all of its barfingly nationalistic glory, I am now completely obsessed. Actually, let me clarify: I’m not obsessed with all the Olympics. In fact, I still find most of the events a bit of a snoozefest. I mean, if I wanted to see people dangerously fighting gravity on a frozen track, I’d watch those old ladies trying to come down the ramp at the grocery store near my house.

I’m obsessed with hockey: women’s hockey, to be specific. It may sound strange, but watching Canada trounce Finland 5–0 gave me an honest to goodness sports-boner, and for the life of me I can’t figure it out. Organized sports in general are quite foreign to me. Growing up, while other kids my age were enrolled in football and hockey, my parents sent me to learn to play the recorder and enrolled me in chess club.

Now, I imagine many boys in my position would have thrown a shitfit, complaining to their parents that they’d be labelled a sissy (and indeed, the time spent naively explaining to my peers that a recorder is not actually a “skin flute” but that it’s actually made entirely of plastic, is not time I look fondly upon), but I was actually grateful.

I loved chess club. Not because I fancied myself an intellectual, but because it let me not have to deal with my social awkwardness. Back then, I was a frail and nerdy kid who was so petrified of fucking up in front of people that I couldn’t be asked a question in class without waves of nausea sweeping over me. Now, put me in a team situation where I was counted on to score a point or protect a goal? Forget it. But chess was an activity where you didn’t have to speak. In fact, the quieter you were, the more threatening you seemed. And not only was I quiet; I’m Asian. And for some odd reason, people thought I would be a natural killer at the game.

And at first, they were right: I had that shit on lockdown. There was only one thing that stood in the way of fame and fortune as a chess star: I totally sucked at chess. The only reason I won at the beginning was that kids were so intimidated by my social autism that they second-guessed the intentions of every clearly bad move I made. “What is he doing? He’s leaving his king just open… it must be a trap.” Again, my dreams of succeeding quickly faded as people caught on to the sham. Check and mate.

I am kind of mad that my parents didn’t force me into organized sports. In fact, with seven kids, they had the perfect number for a water polo team. We could have made a fortune as some kind of touring vaudevillian novelty act, sort of like the Von Trapp family, except Filipino. And with swim caps. Again, I suppose the only thing stopping us would be that I can’t swim and most of the show would have just been people jumping in to rescue me.

Still, I’ve always admired people who could work in teams. Which brings me back to the Finnish women’s hockey team. I have no idea why they’ve entranced me and why I just spent an hour Google image-searching pictures of Finnish goalie Noora Räty. Maybe it’s an opposites attract thing. I suppose the furthest thing from me is a flaxen-haired tough girl who can skate and who plays well with others. Or maybe I’m just reacting to all the unbridled pseudo-nudity that has taken over t-shirt advertising and now I’m into girls not only covering up, but wearing protective padding and helmets with cages on them. Who knows? All that I can be sure of is that today, when Finland plays Sweden, I’ll be there. Don’t bother asking who I’m rooting for, I won’t pick sides. As far as I’m concerned, everyone’s a winner in this game.

RIFF-RAFF@SYMPATICO.CA