Sporting

"I don't know who I'm going to play ping pong with when you go"

said my friend sadly yesterday lunchtime, while we were playing. It was a melancholy moment, but I was glad too to know in this oblique way that I will be missed. I'll miss it too. I've played with him for a few minutes, not every lunchtime, but most lunchtimes, for perhaps a year and a half, perhaps longer.

It's been rather pleasing to see myself getting better, making fast shots and difficult shots, making him work harder to beat me. It's been a pleasure, a few moments of pure enjoyment stolen from the day. And it's been one of those little rituals of shared time that cements a relationship, ensuring that we are friends rather than people who share the odd casual chat.

When you think about it, a daily game or two really is a luxury -I can't imagine ever being able to afford a house big enough for a table tennis table. In the public sphere, I associate table tennis with drafty youth clubs and the back of the school hall and the college basement, but I suppose one can play it in sports centers. Once a week maybe, if I'm lucky enough to find someone to play with. Sigh.

Yesterday we also played volleyball for the first time in months. At first, when it didn't look like anyone was going to show up, I was angrily disappointed and embarrassed by my overenthusiasm, conscious of all the people there watching the semi-final of the football tournament and in my absurd imagination thinking me ridiculous. But then we had three or four, enough to begin warming up, and before long we had trickled up to two full teams of six.

I really, really love volleyball. I'll get frustrated sometimes when people get overcompetitive and start stealing my balls, but mostly I love it. I'm not all that good but I've got better, and every time I make a decent shot I'm pleased with myself. I love the grace of it sometimes, and the energy, and the precision. I love being outside. I love playing as part of a team. I love playing with my colleagues and people I'm fond of. I love the friendliness of it, the way we yell at people passing by to come and join in. I love the supportiveness of it, the gracious Mexicans who've watched me grow and will say well done even if I stuff it up, or congratulate me if I make a point even if I'm on the opposite team. I love that the taunts are always good-natured and the way we all laugh when someone makes a terrible shot or makes themselves look daft - with them, not at them - and how we don't bother to count points except perhaps to bring the session to a close.

Volleyball makes me happy and I really want to play in the future. The thing is, that's not how volleyball works in the real world, outside of a campus like this. It's not the sort of sport people play casually after work, not in the UK anyway. You have to join a club, play on a team. Like I said, I'm not all that good and I'm far from athletic, but I suppose I could join at the beginner level.

The thing is, even then your supposed to aspire to 'proper' volleyball. Offensive and defensive play. Sets and spikes. Rules and points. Not being pleased when you just get it over the net and not cracking up when you do something stupid and not making faces at your friends on the other side of the net. It doesn't sound like very much fun at all. Perhaps it's stupid, but I hate all the tactical stuff. I suppose it's worth it to be able to play, if only I can not be too terrified to do such a thing as join a club, but my heart will be here, on uneven grass with the chalk lines washed away and a broken net.

I love the feeling of winning a game, but I don't really get the kind of excessive competitiveness that drives the fun out of things. So many people get bizarre competitive attitudes on them about all kinds of things - sports obviously, but also things like dancing, or gardening. Pchah. When I think about it I actually find the Olympics pretty distressing (and not just because of how much they cost). So much effort, so much hope, and for so many it's all just broken dreams. Still, I read an interview with British gymnast Beth Tweddle where she said that the uneven bars felt like flying. Maybe that makes it worth it?