I Can’t Throw: An Update on Last Year’s New Year Resolution February 17, 2015

So if you follow my blog, you may recall that last year my resolution was to learn how to throw. Better late than never, right?

Spoiler alert: I still can’t throw.

Well, I take that back. I think my throwing motion has probably improved, but I really haven’t gotten to test it out much. Let’s just say that I haven’t been lining up to join any dodgeball tournaments lately, and I won’t be joining that spring softball league. Because not only can I not throw, but I have a huge fear of getting hit by balls, and I can’t bat either. So basically I’m the total package.

So the biggest impetus for learning to throw was because it was affecting my tennis serve. I needed to get that right “snapping” motion in order to get the most power. This was a huge hole in my game, and I was tired of opponents asking me how my shoulder surgery went. (This was of course a big rumor, and after a while I just decided to go with it and not correct anyone. I had already told people I was a big spaz and couldn’t throw, but for some reason they didn’t believe me and preferred to think I had a bum shoulder. Go figure.)

And so I took service lessons.

Now without the actual tennis ball, my service motion looked incredible. I practiced and practiced that motion and it looked beautiful. But put a tennis ball in my hand and ask me to now use that same motion while hitting the ball…well, it all fell to shit. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t combine the motion with the ball toss and put everything together. So now I’m back to my old reliable-yet-crappy serve. (I’m wondering what my next move should be: hypnotist, maybe? Obviously my problem is mental, right?)

But rather than focus on this sporting failure – which I’m pretty much used to – I will instead look back at those few shining moments of athletic glory in my younger life. They are, in no particular order:

  • Dart Goddess. Thanks to the questionable “dart unit” in high school gym class, I discovered that although I could not throw any type of ball, I could definitely throw small spears. And I could throw them well. Thanks to this tutelage and the dart machine in my college boyfriend’s house, I was a force to be reckoned with at the college bars.
  • Badminton Bad-Ass. Another one of the few gym units I excelled at, probably because I was hitting something over a net and there were no balls involved. Also, the one time I actually needed a shower after gym class.
  • Archery Annie. Apparently I am better with sharp objects. I once shot a perfect bulls-eye as all my fellow classmates watched. Suck it, basketball players!
  • Star Shooter. I can’t play basketball worth shit, but I can shoot. I once scored six points in a row in a gym class basketball game, which was enough for an opponent to yell at his teammates: “Get on her!” I was actually a threat. Now this was something new. I’ve been a threat at a lot of things in my life. Power shopping. Wheel of Fortune. Scrabble. Jeopardy. Rock Paper Scissors. Most naps in a day. Caddyshack and Sixteen Candles trivia. But a basketball threat? Now that was hilarious.
  • Dancing Diva. Dancing is not technically a sport, but then again darts weren’t either. But since they were both gym class units and involved physical skill, I’m counting them. The only time I got an ‘A’ in gym.
  • Jumping Jehosaphat. (I’m not quite sure what a Jehosaphat is, but anything that Yosemite Sam says is alright by me.) I’m also pretty sure I hold the jump roping and Double Dutch record at Lourdes grade school. And it was pretty cutthroat; beware little girls in jumpers who are bad rope twirlers and try to make you miss.

Thank goodness I learned to play two lifetime sports: golf and tennis. Because unlike a lot of people, my best athletic years are NOW (and even yet to come) – not when I was sixteen years old. And for that I am thankful.