Growing up in Vietnam, I never got to play much sports because either there were no facilities or girls were not encouraged to get involved in sports. It sucks but I learnt to accept it. Until when I got to go further and further away, I wanted to try basketball and volleyball, it was a lot of fun! Especially being in touch with the ball, it is a special feeling.
The ball is always a center of a game, no matter how awesome the players are. I remember I used to watch soccer with my dad and our eyes sticked only to the ball on screen. As a player, the ball becomes a more important target. It almost plays a role as a compass, whether you are doing great is reflected on how much you get close to the ball.
The joy of a player sometimes is simply just to roll the ball while not being in any game. My two hands hold the ball, twist it, and make it bounce, here and there. I was just chilling with it, not to compete with anyone. Every moment my fingers touch the ball, I feel intimate and proud. Then when I cannot catch it, I am disappointed, or perhaps, feeling playful.
In a game, because of the ball, I have to move, jump, run around, it is all worth it, as part of a journey. Because of its nature as a center, it also connects people. If there is a group of people, with a ball, something can happen, otherwise, we might just stand still or chit chat. The ball, therefore, brings fun and a goal for people to strive for. Most importantly, it welcomes everyone from all walks of life. No one is limited in playing with a ball.
It is also designed to be so resilient that it can stand the toughest game. Well rounded, it can be in touch with any surface. It contains air so it is light. Every bounce can bring some damages to its outer layer, but it does not seem to mind. Even if there is a spike somewhere, the ball can get hurt, some air is spilled out, yet, the air can be refilled and the wounds can be healed over time.
Though, sometimes, when there is no game, the ball can be left in a corner that no one pays attention to it, but that is okay. It is its ‘me’ time and rest time to recover. There is no statistics about an average life expectancy of a ball but usually a ball is abandoned before it is aging. A ball might get retired in a garage or storage so it has its own time. Time when it is the center and time when it is nothing. Time when people embrace and cherish it, time when people take it for granted. The point is to play well its role in every moment. It has learnt to be tough in a game, and to be friend with dusts in a dark dirty storage. All make its story.
Above all, it would understand if its owner takes it with him or her everywhere when it is new yet abandon it when its skin got worn out or when it cannot contain much air. It knows when it is time to step back and to say goodbye. Such humility!
