In Praise of Shallow, Sporty Types | Diary of a Cricket Virgin

VIDEO

What happens when a self-confessed worrywart and distinctly unsporty writer picks up a cricket bat? In this second Diary of a Cricket Virgin, Yang-May Ooi ventures out of her head and onto the cricket pitch, while asking a cheeky question: do those “shallow, sporty types” know something about happiness — and belonging — that the rest of us don’t?

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In the video above, I refer – somewhat hopefully – to becoming a “shallow, sporty type”.

Before every sporty person reading this starts hurling cricket balls at me, I should explain that I mean it as a compliment.

I have always envied sporty people. Like many writers, I spend a lot of time inside my head, thinking about stuff. Sometimes, I think I think too much. I turn things over and over until I start worrying about the thing I was originally thinking about. Then I start wondering why I am worrying about it.

Sporty people, by contrast, seem to have a knack I lack: they get out of their heads and into their bodies.

In praise of “shallowness“

Something goes wrong and they go for a run. They’ve had a terrible day and off they go to play tennis. They’re worried about something, but they turn up at cricket practice anyway.

After a couple of hours of running, volleying, batting, bowling or other sporty activities, they often end up with other people. I see them with their mates in the pub afterwards, cheerful and energised, part of a little temporary community created by the game they have just played. There is banter and chit-chat. Nobody necessarily has to share their innermost self or discuss the meaning of life. They have simply done something together.

Perhaps I romanticise this because I am looking at it from the outside. Sporty people obviously worry too. They can be thoughtful, intellectual and emotionally perceptive. They experience anxiety, depression, grief and all the other difficulties the rest of us do.

But there is something about the culture of sport that intrigues me. You turn up – whatever else is going on for you. There are rules to follow that you don’t have to think about once you’ve played a few times. There is a pitch, court, track or swimming pool. For the next hour or two, your attention has somewhere else to go.

That is what I mean by “shallow”.

Not unintelligent or insensitive. I mean the ability, sometimes, to let things remain nearer the surface rather than allowing every difficulty to sink into the deepest parts of ourselves. It’s about being able to put a problem on the sidelines for a while.

Belonging without explaining yourself

Perhaps that is also why sport can create such a powerful form of belonging. A lot of the belonging I usually think and write about involves big questions like: Where are you from? What culture do you belong to? How do other people see you? How do you see yourself? Do I fit in? Can we belong with people who disagree with us?

Sport seems to offer something much more straightforward. For a while, the answer to “Where do I belong?” might just be: on this team. It’s not very deep or existential or political. You don’t necessarily have to explain who you are. You just have to know when it is your turn to bat.

Of course, sport has its own tribes, exclusions and hierarchies. Anyone who was always picked last for games at school – yup, that’s me – knows that belonging through sport is by no means automatic.

But perhaps this is precisely why I am finding cricket interesting now I am older. I am encountering it not as the hopeless schoolgirl fumbling to catch ball, but as an adult deliberately stepping into an unfamiliar culture. I don’t know all the rules nor do I have the skills. I certainly don’t have the hand-eye coordination! I am, quite literally, a cricket virgin.

And yet I can still step onto the pitch and have a go.

Science supports shallowness, too

There is a solid explanation for why all this might make us feel better. The World Health Organization, NHS and Mayo Clinic all point to the benefits of physical activity for mental wellbeing, including helping with symptoms of anxiety and depression.

For myself, I know I often feel better after some vigorous activity such as when I go for a run, cycle or swim. Once my heart gets pumping, the sweat starts pouring and the rhythm of movement takes over, the problem that seemed enormous when I left the house often seems more manageable when I get back.

It hasn’t disappeared. I have just stopped worrying about it for an hour. Perhaps that is what I am learning from my supposedly “shallow, sporty types”. Not everything has to be analysed immediately. Not every worry deserves unlimited access to our minds. Sometimes we can put it down, pick up a bat and pay attention to the ball coming towards us instead.

And for someone who spends much of my life thinking about belonging, perhaps there is something liberating about discovering a form of belonging that doesn’t begin with the question: Do I fit in here?

Sports offers us a simpler question that takes us right back to how we used to connect as children: Do you want to play?

Increasingly, my answer is yes… or, at least, I’ll have a go!

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*Dani in the video: her name has been changed

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Sources:

Depression and anxiety: Exercise eases symptoms, Mayo Clinic – https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/depression/in-depth/depression-and-exercise/art-20046495 

Be active for your mental health, NHS Better Health – https://www.nhs.uk/every-mind-matters/mental-wellbeing-tips/be-active-for-your-mental-health/ 

Physical activity – great for your body, great for your mind, World Health Organisation – https://www.who.int/news-room/feature-stories/detail/physical-activity—great-for-your-body–great-for-your-mind 

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