Tempest

Thursday, 3 May 2007

For the love of the game

Swoosh. She stood straight and looked at the small spec of white moving steadily through the sky. Her eyes followed it with utmost concentration and she watched its descent from the sky till it landed on a faraway green and came to sudden stop. She knew exactly where it had fallen. She never missed it in flight where even most professionals would have missed it once or twice. ‘Brilliant!’ said Sam, shaking his head at her as if to say there was absolutely no doubt about that shot. She immediately picked up her golf bag and swiftly began to walk towards hole 5. Sam followed close behind with Ross walking silently by.

“C’mon guys a bit faster”, yelled Dee.
“Yeah she’d obviously be enthusiastic…she’s gonna make it 5 under par if she gets it in with two putts!”
“Your just jealous Ross, she’s way better than you at your own game,” said Sam with a laugh.
“She’s way better than most at every game!” Ross tossed back at him with a grin.

People usually stand in every position possible and take about fifteen minutes to get ready for each putt or swing in golf. They’d bend left and tilt right and bend over and sit on the ground and act as if they are literally memorising the dimensions of the earth before every shot. With great flourish and with an air of utmost expertise they’d look at the ball and then the flag hole, then back at the ball and then at the imaginary line between the ball and the flag hole and lightly tap the ball with just the right amount of force required to send the ball home or so they would claim later on over chilled beer or Scotch on the rocks. And yet most would miss the target by many frustrating and infuriating inches. Dee was one of the quickest golfers you would have seen around. She briskly walked up to the ball, lightly laid the putter next to it focussed on the flag hole for about 30 seconds and gave it a tap. It rolled easily across the smooth cut grass and neatly fell into the flag hole with a smack.

“Pure fluke!” smirked Ross while giving her a friendly shove.
“You jealous pig!” yelled Dee turning around to shove her back.
“You can’t get me!” said Ross with a grin, dodged her and began running.
“Always have, always will” and Dee dashed after her like a kid.
Sam laughed at the way Dee got her so quickly and rolled over with her on the grass. He laughed at the way she always got her. He laughed at the way she always got caught in spite of claiming great agility. He laughed at the gay exuberance and gusto for living that they had managed to hold on to even after the worst blows life had meted out to them.
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Sam loved his sister and he had hated her at the same time. She is and always had been one of the most competitive people one could meet. Everything was a challenge to her. She could not handle defeat. She would try and try harder and sweat and slog to make sure she was the best. Always. She had been better than him at everything. Everything. He had always had to live under her shadow. As a kid he had resented his little sister imagining her competitiveness to be directed at him for greater parental attention. But as he had grown up he had realised her compulsiveness came from within directed at simply winning everything in life and he had grown to admire her spirit. Had Sam himself not been an extremely intelligent fellow excelling in academics and the one sport he loved he would have grown up as a man with severe insecurities and a major inferiority complex.
He had had ample opportunity to have acquired one as well. Dee and Sam had started training for swimming at an early age. He had been 9 and she 6. Their mother in a way had been a slave driver and the schedule had been rigorous. By the time he had hit his teens they were both part of the Detroit state swim team. Training was twice a day four hours in the morning and two every evening. Their lives had begun to revolve around swimming and Sam had begun to tire of the tough schedule. He had begun to buckle under the pressure and he had never truly enjoyed the sport too much.

Kids at school could be heard yelling and shouting sometimes in glee, sometimes in frustration, sometimes in anger and sometimes in ecstasy. He would watch them run, dodge, knock each other down, jump and then he would watch them score. The mass hugs; yells and pats on the back would follow. All of his state swimming victories put together did not seem as glorious as these basketball wins in the school basketball court seemed. He would sit and watch them because he would be too tired from all the swimming to join them. He would watch them and envy the camaraderie and pure joy in the game and wish he had the guts to join them. Then one fateful day he walked up to his fellow classmates on court and asked if he could join. That day shaped his entire life, his personality, and his relationships for years to come.
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He had never sucked at anything that bad. He was so awful at the game he had made everyone laugh till they cried at his pathetic attempts to shoot. He had not missed the basket by inches or feet but by miles. He just couldn’t understand it. I mean he was strong and had strength in his arms from all that swimming then why the hell couldn’t he shoot? And he had sweated. Like really sweated not just little sweat from jogging etc. He had sweated profusely and his shirt was damp and his exhaustion was not sweet like after swimming but his throat was a little constricted and he wanted to drink tons of cold water. And he did not have to walk back to class alone but with a bunch of boys who just were not quitting making fun of him. He felt embarrassed. He felt inadequate. He felt unsure in that crowd. He didn’t like the feeling one bit.

He was back on the court that day, and the next and the day after that. He was addicted to the dribbling, the chase, the dodging, fooling the opponent and shooting and shooting again till he had enough to boast about for that day. He was getting good. He was getting fast. His moves were getting unpredictable. He was getting addicted. He had begun to get slower and slower in the swimming training sessions. Almost everyday the coach had to push him to the back of the sequence line because he had begun to hold up the entire line due to exhaustion. He began slacking. He began creating excuses. For the first time in years he took about a minute in a 100-metre race at a regional swim meet. A minute is almost eons in swimming. His career as a swimmer was over if he didn’t buck up now.

His mom nagged him day in and day out. He had never lost in such a horrible a manner ever before.
“Look at Dee. Look how dedicated she is. Don’t you want to win?” She would holler at him every opportunity she got. He tried reasoning with her.
“She likes swimming mama. I never really enjoyed it as much. And I don’t have time nor the energy to live life after beyond it.”
It went on for a few months and his performance never got better. In fact it got worse. He seemed to be lacking energy throughout no matter how much of energy boosting malt his mom put in his milk.
“After all the time and effort I’ve expended taking you both to the pool everyday and sitting with you and cheering you on. Is this how you repay me?”
“Mom you’ve done a lot and I do appreciate it. But I don’t like swimming much.”
“You just don’t want to try. You don’t want to give things your best shot like your sister.”
That hurt. He loved Dee but he was tired of trying to measure up. I mean he was the elder one for godssakes.
“Mom I’ve won a lot. You almost have a trunk full of medals that I’ve won for you. This isn’t about me this is about you winning. Its like we’re machines and you get to prove that you were super mom,” he yelled.

He left swimming that year. Basketball became his life. Mom never asked him to win anything after that. She was never over excited when he won or topped anything after that, nor was she overly disappointed when he lost or did badly. Dee became the focus of her life. She drove Dee like as though she were a machine and Dee went with it. Swimming became Dee’s life. She had always wanted to tell Sam that she was proud of him, that she was glad he had found a sport he liked but since she had always been in awe of him she never did. They interacted at the dinner table like kids in most families do but never got close. Her rigorous schedule continued. He continued with his newly found passion.

That summer he played in the first ever inter-house match and his team won. It was a small match but it was a greater victory for him than any of the swimming ones had been. He was part of the Bulls team and they were against the Eagles who had won for the last two consecutive years. He had never played with as much spirit; it was reflected in his every move, his every dodge, and his every shoot. He was scoring more than any of the other opponents. He was up against Marco who had been the best player in school for the last two years. There were two minutes to full time. Roby from Bulls had passed the ball to him and he was immediately surrounded by three of the opponent players. At the edge of the court he continued dribbling the ball shielding it with his body at a diagonal to the players, looking for an opening. Marco made a move towards him and finding the opening; in a single instant Sam had passed the ball to Bob. They were still at centre court and Bob almost immediate passed it back to him. Marco again covered Sam almost immediately then. The guy was excellent and knew which way he was going to move every time. Sam was forced to have his back to Marco and was once again being cornered at the edge of the court. He in that moment made a quick, instinctual decision, flipped around and shot from right where he was from outside the D. It was almost a thundering silence in the court for those few stretching moments as the ball flew through the air. And then there was pandemonium. All hell broke lose. Sam had scored and they had won 53-51. It was tremendous. The entire school was in an uproar. And through all the yells and slaps on the back Sam thought he could hear a faint chanting sam,,sam..Sam..SAM..Sam..SAM…sam. He knew he would always hear that chanting when he was old and deaf and alone. He would hear it and feel the thrill again of that first match. After that there was no stopping him. The game became his life.
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By the age of sixteen Dee became a national swimmer and was representing the State of Michigan. She was one of the fastest one could see around. She was beating records left, right and centre. With each race she, it seemed she was getting quicker. Dee loved the water and she was getting used to winning. She had drive and even though her mother took her to the pool everyday and sat there till the training was done this kind of dedication was hard to achieve unless one had innate inner drive. For her mom it was pride beyond reason at her daughter’s successes. She was most conceited about the fact that the other swimmers took drugs and steroids during training to be faster but Dee was this quick simply on her nutritious diet and energy malt mixes. She would beam with pride at each of Dee’s victories as if they were her own. Sam’s accomplishments at basketball would not go unnoticed by her but they would always lack the lustre that Dee’s had.

Dee would make it a point to congratulate her brother at his every win and pat his back and say a sympathising word at his every failure. They had a light rapport and they never still had time to interact. But during the few weekends that both would be at home they would play carom or foosball or table tennis and enjoy a few harmless games in good spirit. Both had the flair for sportsmanship and found it easier to just play than talk. That made thing uncomfortable for both. Any bitterness that Sam had over his mothers fanaticism over Dee was more or less nullified by his fathers balanced outlook and equal encouragement of both children. Sam was a little casual and carefree and never really held against his mother but a few remnants of a bitter taste always remain.

The summer that Dee graduated from High School was the summer that their lives changed for better or for worse. Sam was graduating college and had bagged a great job with a chemical enterprise. He had passed out with honours and had received a great farewell as the best captain the basketball team that Wharton had ever had. Dee had gotten admission into Berkeley purely on her record as a national swimmer. They had decided to go on a family vacation for two weeks to California. Rosaline or Ross for short was coming along. If there was one common thing that both Sam and Dee loved was Ross. She was their best friend. It was amazing how she fit into both their lives. She was the only one Sam would talk to and confide in. She was the only one Dee would talk to confide in. Ross was never best in anything. She was clumsy at almost anything she touched. But she had a cheerful disposition and had this uncanny capability of being able to mould herself to anyone’s state of mind so as to be just rightly compassionate and understanding. Whilst the siblings played and competed she read books and fantasised about the surreal and was the easiest person to get along with.

They bonded in a way that summer because of her. She was the go between. Both wanted to spend time with her and before they knew it they were all three sitting together almost all the time playing cards and talking. Talking about friends, school and college. Talking about their respective sports. Dee talked to Sam how she sometimes craved a normal life. She had had none unlike him who had enjoyed the double advantage of being popular and having tons of friends and also playing and excelling at his favourite sport. He understood and he sympathised. And was not over empathetic like some other people who would gasp and sigh at her so called life.
“My God you don’t go to movies?”
“Gosh you’ve never had a sleep over in your life?”
“What??? You did not go for that party?”
“My God! Poor thing your mom really pushes you!”
“No. I love it myself. She helps me remain pushed,” Dee would answer with a thin smile.
Sam understood Dee’s craving for a missed life. But he also understood her love of the game and her need to be best at it.”
Ross understood both of them and added a little recreation and silly lightness to the summer break Brother sister bonded.

And then it happened. The mighty blow.

Neither of them quite remembered how it happened. One minute they were driving and laughing over how silly Ross was about something and their Dad was looking in the rear view mirror and laughing along…the road was empty and wide…laughter was filling the air…suddenly the sound of screeching tyres filled the air…the flash of a carrier was seen…none of them registered and then blackness.

Luckily both parents had come away with minor scratches. Apparently the carrier had come from the side and had banged against the side of the car’s back. Ross had a head injury with internal bleeding. Dee had broken a few ribs and hurt her stomach muscles had been torn from the inside. Sam had hurt his left kneecap.

It had all hurt where it hurts the most.
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The wounds had healed. Their effects could have lasted a lifetime if the siblings had not turned to each other at the opportune moment. Dee obviously could not swim anymore as her stomach muscles could not take the stress and Sam could not play anymore. In fact he had it much worse he had a distinctive limp. He was no longer the strong, independent tall basketball player. He had a limp and the passion of his life had been stolen from him in the midst of laughter.

The anguish, the bitterness built slowly spreading like venom in their hearts, their minds and their lives. Mom obviously only lamented the loss of her daughters career. Sam’s leg was a great loss to her as a mom as well. But nothing was balanced. Dee was bitter because the constant nagging of her mother and her lamenting about swimming made her own loss loom larger than ever in her minds eye. She resented the fact that her mom only thought of her as a swimmer and not a person. Sam resented the fact that his mother could never appreciate his passion the void that it was now. Both grew bitter. Both snapped at their mother, years of resentment pouring out like a waterfall stopped for too long. The father tried to intervene but the emotional hurt had been buried for too long and the mother too old to now change her views nor her person was too hurt, indignant and enraged at her children’s ingratitude to make amends herself.

Ross made the tides soothe over. She had lost partial vision and vision was her life. She who only read and dreamed could do nothing without clear sight. Yet she was the same, always cheerful, always listening to them rave and rant. Slowly their raving and ranting dimmed and both siblings spent their time with Ross. Again it was the three of them laughing and talking. None ventured into what they would do further in life. For a while they only talked about nothing. Ross filled them with hope. She kept saying its not over yet. You have a whole world of sports and activities to explore. She with calm and her usual blind optimism instilled in them a slow confidence in their abilities, in their own will and in the fact that they were born fighters.

Dee’s passivity helped them get over the pain of their snatched passions. They resumed life. Dee could not go to Berkeley anymore but she did go to UCE California and had a chance to make friends and finally do things that she had never done in her life before. Sam worked and earned money and both still played TT or foosball over the weekends. Mom was slowly forgiven. Love was regained. Life was beautiful.

Only passion was missing.
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On the weekend of Sam’s thirtieth birthday, Dee and Sam went to visit dad and mom. Both had excelled in life, at their jobs and were successful. Both parents were extremely proud of their children. But there was this underlying restlessness about both children that dad wanted to ease but could do nothing about except grieve.

Sunday afternoon they decided to accompany dad on his weekly round of golf.

There on the green the magic happened again…

They had taken a putter each and were trying to putt for fun. It started as friendly competition, became a matter of minor pride and then slowly became a slow obsession. That week both siblings spent everyday at the golf course competing with each other for real. Both were slow. Both were obsessive and focussed. Both wanted to beat the other. Both were natural at it. They had no time to spend with each other all weekend. The only time they met was at dinnertime. Both parents were disgruntled at being neglected like this. Dad embraced his children like they had come to him after years when they were leaving. He knew he had lost them to yet another game…

Sam and Dee were back.

Labels: fiction, siblings, sport, will

Posted by Pavitra :: 19:38 :: 8 comments