There’s far more stress, I believe, from far more kids and parents for sports-related things. Sure, you’ll have an insane “stage mother” type that’ll ruin some music, art or writing for their kid, or you’ll have a harsh taskmaster choir director like I had. But these kinds of people are outnumbered, I believe, but the massive amount of people that take sports far too seriously and make others miserable because of it.
It was all so freakin’ important, for some reason. “Teamwork” my ass. Real teams don’t act like little monsters, little ungracious monsters who don’t give a rat’s ass about their teammates unless they are winning. I remember getting smacked in the face with a very hard ball, causing me to be stunned, my eyes to water, and my face to get bruised. As I stood there, stunned, my fellow teammates simply screeched at me to “throw the damn ball! THROW THE DAMNED BALL!” My priorities, apparently, were screwed up, because I didn’t think of the damned ball’s position before my own wellbeing. I hated that, I hated how my teammates became these selfish litte beasts, all because they were buying into some myth that moving this damned ball was more important than anything else.
It was like this all the damned time. It’s one thing to be a member of a supportive team, but I never experienced that. I was a member of some sort of dreadful, mean, spiteful team who blew the importance of the game way out of proportion and that didn’t want me and resented my presence.
However, I learned a great deal about patience and perseverence through my art studies, because no one was harranguing me there. No fellow students were browbeating me or treating me like a leper if I let them down in some way. Sports was a lot more damaging to me, psychologically, than any other subject in school. It wasn’t the sport, it was the so-called abusive “teamwork.”
So, if it works for some of the rest of you, great, but don’t pretend that it isn’t pure torture for many of us. Pure, unadulterated, useless, fruitless, pointless, abusive torture. Nothing good comes from such spiteful torture. Nothing. Just a loathing for sports and a disdain for the importance some people attach to it.
Sports may be great fun for some, but in the end, it’s simply not that important. Not nothing, not completely insignificant—I’m not saying that it’s nothing. But come on, let’s get real. It is just a game.