I’ve been playing competitive indoor lately, both on my co-ed team (where typically we’ve gotten whomped) and filling in for my over-30 men’s team whenever they are short on players. Since I’ve picked up my playing considerably over the past several years, I’ve been trying to figure out why my play seems to vary so greatly, where sometimes I think I’m good and other times I feel like I need to hang up my boots. Tonight, I think I finally figured it out.

It largely depends on the other team and how much they pressure the ball. Last week, I did not play well at all; tonight, I played rather well. Both were against good teams. The biggest difference? The first team was breathing down your neck the entire time. Tonight, there was a little more space. And by a little, I mean a little—like you get one full second on the ball rather than a split-second on the ball. For me, that half-second makes a dramatic difference. It allows me to settle, get my head up, and do something good. Another thing I’ve realized is that, at 5′ 8″ and 170-something, I’m a rather small person. Most of the guys I play with (and more to the point against) are bigger than me by quite a bit, and it’s fairly easy to push me off the ball. There’s not much I can do about this, except for getting bigger or faster. I don’t see myself doing either.

I also had an epiphany today regarding my studies. I was reading some foundational articles on professional (i.e. business and technical) writing, and I found that I was truly engaged. I was a little worried that I’d find it boring, but the things we read reminded me of the theory I found useful and applicable in my rhet/comp pedagogy course.

The epiphany is this: I’m interested in most things writing. I like words, I like playing with language, I like nifty moves writers make to get their points across. I like talking about what makes writing good. Any kind of writing. This is quite different than, say, talking about literature via theory. Unlike some, I don’t have a particular distaste for literary theory and I believe, in many instances, literary theorists do important work in studying how literature relates to real-world circumstances. Except for very few exceptions, I find it difficult to get excited about. Those exceptions? I get excited about them because they point back to my personal practices as a writer.

The take-away? I would have been miserable in a literary studies program, i.e. the vast majority of English Ph.D. programs in the country. Also, I don’t think I’d fit all that well in an MFA program, since most only deal with the “fine art” of (literary) writing. It just so happens I like the non-literary writing too. So the Creative Writing Ph.D. that offers courses on the pedagogy of composition and professional writing is a pretty snug fit.

There are certain books that are so blindingly good, they make me feel like I’m not really a writer, I’m just fooling around. Günter Grass’ The Tin Drum strikes me as such a book. I’m done with the first CD of the audio version (21 more to go) and it has made me laugh, shake my head in wonder, and left me slack-jawed at parts. Again, probably not everybody’s bag, but I’ve found it absolutely riveting.

Current Mood: Tired |