Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:45 a.m.
braids the strings of yarn that hang from the handle of her backpack.
over middle. Left over middle. Right over middle. Left over middle.
first it soothes her, takes her mind away from all the failure. But soon the weaving
and doubling back of the yarn reminds her of her team criss-crossing the
basketball court, and she starts to seethe. If
only that bastard had coached us better. If only the other girls had worked
harder. If only I had been stronger. I COULD HAVE BEEN SOMEBODY.
snaps out of it and shakes her head, the curls of her ponytail bobbing
furiously. She just needs to finish her braid, to finish this bracelet, to
accept what happened and move on. She’ll wrap the bracelet around her wrist and
it will remind her of this acceptance. She will continue to train, to play, and
her sweat will soak into the yarn, and that will remind her of her
determination to do better. She will start over, and she will not fail again.
I rarely write anything having to do with sports. Mostly because I just plain dislike them. I'm excited for the Olympics though. Something about international competition makes sports more interesting to me.
Last night my Swiss couchsurfers watched the men's championship Wimbledon match that they had tivo'd. They were so excited for Federer. It was cute. And they explained a little bit about how tennis works, so that was helpful for me. It was sad to see them go this morning, but at the same time, we don't have guests in the apartment basically for the first time since the beginning of June. I'm pretty happy about this--time to start working out again, and writing regularly again. I have a novel to complete, after all...
P.S. This blog post is great! Expresses a lot of my feelings about why I love public transportation.