Missing It

What do I miss most in life? Extreme sports! It has been 3 years since I last played the sport that I considered a part of my life – basketball. I kept on talking about how basketball changed my way of thinking. Whether to my friends, my brother, or to anyone in particular I just keep on blabbering about my love for basketball. And all of a sudden, it has been taken away from me.

I started playing basketball when I was in my fourth grade. My teachers encouraged me and my classmates to join a particular club in school so that we will be able to write something in our extra-curricular activities index card. The club I joined in my first grade until the third was the Lupon ng mga Mananalumpati or Poetry Club. I loved that club since it was a silent club and we always presented something in the culminating activity held at the end of every school year. It was fun but I thought that I wanted something more exciting. What could it be? Math club – I wasn’t so good in math back then. Science club – I hate science and yes, until now, I still hate it. Then I heard some rumors that the Basketball club members have so much to write in their card. Well, ok, I thought, let’s give it a try. And since then, basketball has been injected in my blood.

In my high school days, I and my friends do our best to play basketball during every available period we have and that includes our 15 minute snack break. Every time I think about our adventures and misadventures that time, I always say to myself that we were just kids fooling around with a round thing that bounces. We just had the same passion for the sport. And believe me if I say that I still do even if I don’t play anymore.

September of 2006 when an accident changed my life. I had torn my left knee cartilage during a friendly basketball game. I was a second year college student, so young, so fragile.
I heard stories from some friends that you usually throw tantrums when you use the crutches. I was scared, really. My entire left leg was casted with a fiber glass material which limited my walking and hence, I used the crutches. I have a friend who had a similar accident. His right forearm broke because of basketball and what was so funny about that was he cried. He didn’t cry because it hurt, he cried because his mother would spend some cash because of his recklessness.

I put all those things together and I thought that I would be a disciplined kid who would wait until after 6 weeks of being useless. Everyday was heart-breaking. I just sit in one corner and wait for someone to come and just talk. I was pitiful that time. And what hurt me most was the fact that I won’t be able to play basketball or any extreme sport for that matter. I just cry deep inside and curse the day that took away my love for basketball.

I was even afraid that I might go crazy. I kept on talking to myself. Why did that happen? What did I do wrong? And more of those questions ran my mind each and everyday. The only thing that made me happy about that accident was that I was able to talk to God more. Instead of only talking to myself, I call out to God to also talk to me. Our relationship grew stronger and little by little he made me understand why that had to happen.

It hurts. It hurts more than being punched in the gut when you are being deprived of doing the thing that you love most. I miss playing the sport. I miss the teamwork we create. I miss the hustle plays. I miss the huge shots I made. I miss the sick passes I do. I just miss everything about the sport. And the more I think about it, all other sport just come into play. I was introduced to football and the martial arts. I wanted to run more miles in my life today than what I did when my knee was well.

Oh, how ironic is life. But it wouldn’t be life if there weren’t any irony or ambiguity or challenges or frustrations or failure. I just have to maximize what is left of me and continue running toward the greater goal.