Impact Attempts: Nauseous Netball 44

There was some truly amazing talent there. Meanwhile, my ability to throw and catch a ball while keeping one foot firm on the ground, and also pivoting and attempting a tactical pass was lacking. Already, my peaky university room was calling my name and we hadn’t even started game play yet.

“I started to regret my choice of netball rather than Harry Potter’s favourite sport”

My vision of playing a university sport became an increasingly far-fetched fantasy that was so obviously out of my reach. I wasn’t sure if I could last the whole three hours and I started to regret my choice of netball rather than Harry Potter’s favourite sport. Eventually, after what felt like the longest 15 minute warm up of my life, match play started. As you can probably imagine, the girls on the team I was assigned to weren’t exactly ecstatic when I came stumbling over to them as their ‘Centre’ player. I don’t blame them to be honest, since my incompetence was already so visible. If you’re one of those people who can try any sport and be naturally good at it, I’m sure you can tell by now I’m not that type of girl. I was the player on the team that you avoided passing to. I was the weakest link, the one that always said ‘sorry’ after every pass. And, unfortunately for my teammates, their centre player was redundant before the game had even begun. I ran around that court with speed and not so much elegance. I wondered why the only time I had held the ball was when I took the first centre pass. This was already turning out to be a disaster, but the worst was yet to come. As you have probably inferred, my decline in health was the remnants of a fatal plague one is most likely to become a victim of: the infamous freshers flu, mixed in with a hangover. Not some unfortunate sickness. Rather, it was a purely self-inflicted sentence to weeks of coughing fits and permanent exhaustion.

“Right there and then, on that court, I knew I was going to be sick”

Three minutes into the game, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I knew this really was the end of my netball career. Right there and then, on that court, I knew I was going to be sick. With a hand over my mouth, I gagged my way to the nearest toilet. The worst had happened. I was not only the most dreadful netball player the University of Nottingham has ever witnessed, but I was the one that ran out of the sports hall with an unrighteous splodge of sick stained on a borrowed white sports top.

“I slowly plodded back to my accommodation feeling extremely humbled”

Many ungracious eyes watched me as I performed my unruly episode and I didn’t dare walk back into that sports hall. Rather, I made a swift right to the nearest exit. I slowly plodded back to my accommodation feeling extremely humbled. The rain poured down onto me - a moment of true pathetic fallacy. It was one of those embarrassing memories that you cringe at just as you’re about to fall asleep. I went and confessed to my friend that I was sick in my trials - I needed to tell somebody before the humiliation of what just happened had truly sunk in. To my surprise, he put up a triumphant fist bump to my shameful experience, paired with a proud smile across his face. After a moment of confusion I spudded him right back because I really was ‘sick’ at netball.

By Jessica Callard