Intramurals

There comes a time in all of our lives when our dreams of making it as a professional athlete fade away. Maybe you realize that you’re not tall enough to play center for the Knicks, or you blow your knee out for the 5th time in three years, or, more often than not, you’re really not that good. While there are some of us who do go on to play in college or the pros, the other 99.876% of us, well, we’re pretty much relegated to fantasy sports and video games, which, while fun, aren’t exactly what we were looking forward to when we were seven. I remember riding the bus home from my last high school lacrosse game, realizing that I might never play another meaningful game in my life. Sure I might try out when I got to college, but that game had probably been the last time I would ever suit up for a game with any significance (I say suit up for, because I didn’t actually play in my last game, but that’s another story). I sat there thinking about how much fun I had had playing sports throughout my life and how the next time I went and knocked someone over the cops might have to get involved.
Of course what I had forgotten about was the wonderful world of intramural sports that would be waiting for me when I got to college. And the best part? All of the great athletes were busy playing for varsity teams leaving the rest of us to fill in as team captain, go-to player and leader. My first taste of the intramural world was freshman year in college when Craig and his friends started up a football team comprised of the guys from our floor. Now granted I didn’t really know any of the guys since we’d been at school for about two weeks and Craig’s 5’7”, 125 lbs. body didn’t exactly represent the key to football glory, but I knew I needed to play. I soon realized I had made the right choice as every week I looked forward to our games. Sure we weren’t the greatest athletes in the world, but that’s what made the games great, we were out there because all we wanted to do was play. Granted most of the guys in the league were just like me, high school athletes (except Craig who was a ballerina) who just wanted to keep playing, and sure we’ll probably be the same guys living vicariously through our kids during tee ball, but it didn’t matter, the games meant something to us. Unfortunately our team got knocked out in the semi-finals of the playoffs, but we followed that up by finishing second in the freshman basketball league (which technically we should have won since the other team cheated and used people from multiple floors (Craig is still bitter)). Craig also swears that he won the intramural softball championship that spring, but since I wasn’t asked to be on the team I’ll pretend it never happened (I had become too good for those guys anyways). And yeah those playoff runs and intramural champion t-shirts don’t mean anything to anyone outside of the intramural world, but for every person who played it was just another way to fulfill their athletic dreams.
Now, seven years later, I find myself back in school (if you’ve noticed that the writing has gotten worse over the last three months it’s because Craig was writing by himself, while I got acclimated to law school) and once again playing intramural sports. And while my football team went 0-7, one guy asked me what a linebacker was, and my basketball team couldn’t dribble, but the mere fact that I’m still able to go out and play in organized games is all that matters. And sure, in the history of sports these games wouldn’t even be a footnote in the chapter covering meaningless games, but they mean something to the players. Maybe the games are just for fun or are just one more chance to prove to yourself that you’re still an athlete, but intramural sports gives all of us a chance to keep living our athletic dreams, despite the fact that we stopped being athletes years ago.
Note to reader: Craig allowed Brendan to be on all of his intramural teams as he would overhear Brendan crying himself to sleep every night. Craig was also the prima ballerina.