For the Love of Sport (and Strawberries)

Essay by Rhianon Rae, photography by Kym Van der Plas

I get it, I get it - not everyone loves sport. Perhaps sport evokes memories of enforced laps during PE lessons, or spectacular unco-ordinated free-falling on the football field.

Perhaps you would share the perspective of my Year 10 form teacher. Upon looking at my truly ridiculous list of extracurricular activities—at peak craziness I was in four different sporting teams at the same time—she asked incredulously, “When do you have time to have life?” To me, being in four sporting teams was ‘having a life’!

If you are like my form teacher, then I ask for your indulgence for a few minutes. I invite you to step inside the mind of a person like me. A person who genuinely loves throwing, catching, kicking and shooting balls of all shapes and sizes. A person who loves sport.   

It was on a holiday in the beautiful Margaret River region that I realised this love afresh. Our accommodation was a short walk from Redgate Beach. My husband, myself and our then two children were having a lovely time, exploring the region with only our ‘dumb phone’ to guide us. However, on this particular morning, I was lying in bed, upset.  

My husband had told me all about the new book he was reading; Aggressively Happy by Joy Clarkson. In it, she invites her readers to picture Frodo and Sam, the hobbits from The Lord of the Rings, as they lie on a rock nearing the top of Mount Doom. It is in this moment, on the brink of despair and the crushing weight of their task, that Sam turns his thoughts away from the horror and fixes them on the Shire - that symbol of all that is good and beautiful in the world. So he asks Frodo if he remembers it all. 

“Do you remember the taste of strawberries?” 

The question urges Frodo to come out of the depths and remember the good that he has known. Joy Clarkson highlights this scene and asks us as readers to reflect: what would be our ‘strawberries on Mount Doom?’ What would be the one thing we would look back on and say we loved, that gave us joy? 

And the answer for me? Netball. 

Yes, netball. 

I was upset on that day in Margaret River because, in that life stage, and with a dodgy knee, I was not playing netball anymore. It was my strawberry on Mount Doom, that thing that brought me joy, and I could not do it at that point in my life. So weirdly, on my relaxing holiday, I was feeling the sting of that loss. 

Now, as I said, I know not everyone feels this way. It may be that you consider that an absurd answer to the question. Netball?! The one thing you would miss is netball?

But there’s probably–I hope!—another answer for you. Maybe it’s gardening, baking, woodworking or painting?That thing that you have an affinity for, that you find pure pleasure just in the doing of it. To experience these things is to experience the goodness of God in His creation and in particular, His wonderful creation of us, humanity, the jewel in creation’s crown. This ability to use our bodies and minds in different pursuits is one of the wonders of God’s good world.  

Alternatively, you may be  reading this as one of my fellow women-who-love-sport crew, who understand completely that playing a sport can give a feeling of joy that few other things can. In my Bible study group, there is another woman who is part of the women-who love-sport crew. She asked one week for us to pray that she wouldn’t get injured; she was playing her first netball game that Saturday. 

“You’ve joined a netball club?” I exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you! If you ever need a fill-in...”And I really was delighted for her. It is a wonderful moment, sharing a joy with someone else who gets it. 

For me, this love of sport was cultivated over many years in a fairly sport-obsessed family. I was the only girl with three younger brothers. I was out there on the verandah bowling as fast as I could at my brothers. I was the girl who was determined to be as good as the boys at whatever sport we were playing at school. The only girl on the cricket team. The girl learning to do lay-ups in junior basketball and dragging my best friend into the team.  

So what is it about sport? Why does this qualify as my strawberry? 

Partly, there is a nostalgia about sport for me. It ties in with those memories of cricket on the verandah, playing catches at the park (make it to 20 in a row for an ice-cream), going as a family to the Wubin Tennis Club on a Saturday. 

Partly, it is the joy of movement. Propelling your body through space, using those muscles and sinews to their potential. To catch the ball, to dodge the opponent, to score the goal.

It’s also the joy of excellence. Of executing that perfectly weighted pass that wafts over the defence and into the hand of the waiting GS. The perfectly timed lead, accelerating at just the right time into the open space ahead. Or the perfect defence, watching and waiting, anticipating the pass and leaping to cut it off. 

It’s the thrill of the competition. The adrenaline-pumping pressure of a close game, where every movement matters, where the team is striving together to get that one last goal before time runs out. The elation of victory; even the team-binding crush of defeat. 

It’s the fun of doing something together as a team, of working out the strategies, of pushing hard for the fitness, of celebrating each other’s success or commiserating with each other after a loss. 

It’s those happy exercise endorphins! I am always on a high after a competitive sport game. 

But, mostly, I can’t actually put into words why I love sport so much. I just do. That is why it saddens me that I cannot play it so much anymore. I must reckon with the realisation that I am not sixteen anymore (shock). I now have good and weighty responsibilities that preclude an excessive sporting schedule, and a dodgy knee that makes serious sport more challenging. There will, of course, be a day when I cannot play sport at all; when age and joint mobility take that pleasure away. On that day, I hope that I can accept my time on the sport field as a gift from God, and trust that in Him there is more than enough abundance for the fullness of life. 

But until that day arrives, I am determined to keep circling back to sport whenever and however I can. I cannot be the competitor that I once was. (Although I do take delight in whenever someone my age succeeds in sporting endeavours. Novak Djokovic is older than me! I can still win a grand slam!) 

I now have a different joy: the joy of passing on this love to my children. I won’t lie; I have been indoctrinating them to love cricket and I’m quite pleased with the results. Whenever I turned the television on in summer they called it ‘watching cricket.’ My son was given a beach cricket set for Christmas, and since then we have been playing with the set on the back grass. The two-year-old putting on his fast bowler face and racing down the pitch but forgetting to release the ball. The two older children both wishing to be the wicket keeper who conveniently gets to bounce on the trampoline at the same time. Me attempting to reinforce that you must have a straight arm when you bowl, and showing them how to hold the bat and stand in front of the wickets. 

And I do love it when one of the kids comes rushing into the kitchen to ask, ‘Can you play cricket with us, Mum?’ almost as much as a strawberry on Mount Doom. 

*A note for the purists: This line is not in the books, but it fits very well with a passage from Book Six, Chapter Three where Sam asks, “Do you remember that bit of rabbit, Mr Frodo?”

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Rhianon Rae—Regular Contributor

Rhianon is married to Sam and spends much of her time loving and looking after their four children. In God’s kindness, she first heard the gospel from her parents, and has since trained in Christian ministry with the UWA Christian Union and Trinity Theological College. In this season, she enjoys leading a Bible study, coffee dates with friends, watching cricket, and dreaming of the day she can play netball again.