Yesterday was the kind of day memories are made of. Typically the type which you would relish looking back a year or two later but a torture when it is actually happening. Seems like I need to wait forever to write that ecstasic, impulse driven piece. I wanted to scream without inhibition, do a victory tango. I craved for the fairy tale ending.
All the arterial blood had flooded my face. I could feel my head throbbing. My sweat drenched pony tail had become a single mass. My perspiring palms could barely grip. Every bit of my existence was burned up, dehydrated and absolutely fed up of feeling unpleasant. My sympathetic system was hyperactive and the excessive adrenaline made me dizzy. I could feel the 50 pairs of eyes on me. People I did not know existed, ex crushes, cute guys, rowdy boys, seniors cheering. My friends screaming my name. I was playing the women's singles in the finals of Inter Class 2007-Table Tennis. I was nauseous with nervousness.
Every batch is represented by a team of two boys and a girl. Each game consists of five matches. b1's singles, b2's singles, g's singles, doubles, mixed doubles each being best of five sets. To qualify to the next level, a team needs to win three out of the five matches. There are two pools with three teams each. Every team plays against one another in the pool and one teach from each is eliminated. #1 from the first pool plays with #2 in the other and vice versa in the semi finals. The best two meet in the finals. Winning TT would be contributing 150 points to the batch in the final points tally.
Apart from the christening consistent with the fest theme - Cataclysm, each batch is identified by the year it joined the course. My pool had us('04), PG/interns, BPT. The other had '06, '05, '03.
Reasons why I like playing TT here
1. It is something I know rather than it being a class-participation-sake thing.
2. It is not a sport which has seperate teams for boys and girls where boys play league matches and the sissy girls' competition is finished off in a knockout for the heck of it. 3rd and 5th matches are deciders. The girl is important. People are almost as respectful as towards a guy in a game.
3. My team mates are great.
4. In the land of blind, one eyed is the king. I get to play inter university. I dig the college jersey and all the picnics to Manipal.
Quarterfinals was a breeze. We won B1, B2, G in a row against BPT. PG/interns' best female player has final exams in less than 2 weeks. They did not have a substitute. So technically they had already lost two matches without playing. They could not afford to lose anything else. However our boys managed effortlessly and we were #1 in our pool. We had to play '03 in the semifinals. Last year at the same stage we had lost to them.
Lost B1, won B2, my turn.. That girl's cheering team intimidates me. She was in her formal hospital clothes, as though it was not even necessary to wear sports gear for the petty match. I had hesitated to wear my Tommy shoes because I really think it is wrong to flaunt anything unless you are great at it. Her boyfriend would be around to give her a consoling hug, a word or two of encouragement or a shoulder pat. For weird reasons it annoys me. However my friends were there too to make some mockery and make me laugh in the breaks. It was a close match. I jumped once. My first sign of excitement in the whole day. I have mask facies in front of the table when I am being watched. Like a zombie. No expressions, mute. b2 asked me what the hell was wrong. I played a "girl's" game it seems. I tried offensive but none of the shots worked. She wasn't hitting anyway, so I played the sissy way. I asked him to shut up for a while and go win the doubles. It was still settling in. I had won three sets straight.
We qualified for the finals. For the first time in three years we had reached this level and I couldn't help my thrilled grinning.
Finals '04 vs '06. We lost B1, B2. '06 is a terrific talented bunch of kids. I remembered ourselves as freshies. I had oiled and pinned up all the loose locks of hair. I was a terrified pup during ragging. I had walked into the main college with an unsteady gait, hiding behind the boys. Inspite of the tremendous bladder capacity, I had to piss so often. All the time when I wasn't playing I was fetching water for seniors and calling every person at sight as sir. It was an awesome day. We did not go far but we kicked the then council batch out of the pool. It was a big thing. We had lost our first pool match to PG/interns. We were playing '02(council batch) next. Lost B1, B2. I won my singles. We had a fighting chance to still get back. Guys won the doubles and mixed doubles was the decider. My symptoms started, obviously. If you are susceptible to getting psyched, they will thrash you. Literally. I was superfluously psyched out. My partner b2 and I took position. People used to think we were dating each other. More comments and psyching for that also. He was unbelievably cool and everytime I got a point he would jump, bang his fists, slap my back. I am totally the silent type. My team mates treat me like a baby and I like it. We won one, lost one, won one, lost one and won the final set! Together we were quite a team. Soon we were 'the pair'. '02 lost against both teams and it was goodbye time for them!
I wished on every falling eyelash, made lucrative bribe offers to god, crossed my fingers and asked Him to recreate the magic just this once and I would never beg for anything. Not even during the universities, for which I was obviously going to toil day in and out.
Being the final, every match was best of seven sets. Forget about psyching them out, our cheering squad was more cautious because she is the terror orthopedics professor's daughter. Her mom had come to watch. I could hear myself breathing. My t shirt was wet and I was exhausted. It was up to me to get the team back into the game. First set went to deuce thrice. Why does He do this to me? He clearly knows I am not made of the kind of stuff to handle this. I won it.
But I lost the match. 3-4. Along with letting the rookies win, individually, I blew up my chances of winning the "female player of the year".
I shook hands with their team. Limp handshakes, the kind I hate. I gave an apologetic sad smile to my friends and quit the scene. I did not want to talk. I did not want to dilute the emotion. I wanted to feel it in its entirety. Alone. I wanted to let it sink inside completely. Losing TT is not end of life but the mind transiently denies logic and refuses to get perspective.
Later that night, we went to a fancy restaurant and celebrated the loss. 75 points added on to the tally.
