Stuck in the Mud

“Well, you do have a lot of extra-curricular – charity, course-related, music. Even Student Governor.” I was sitting, upright waiting for the inevitable impressive, very impressive. I was being interviewed for the receptionist job at my student union, and in my mind, I ticked all the boxes. “No sport though?”

What, sport? Why would I need a sport? Were they looking for a receptionist who could volley paper into the waste bin with pinpoint accuracy?

“No, no sport.” I consolidated.

“Hmm.” Was all I got back.

It was only a first stage interview and I wouldn’t hear back about the second stage for a while. But that one ominous hmm lived on in my head as I walked back down from campus to the crappy estate that my six-bed student house was in. There was no way in hell I was going to fail at getting this job because I didn’t have a sport. Alas, I was useless at all of them, I was unfit and uncoordinated with a ludicrously weak balance. University sports teams only wanted experienced players or malleable athletes ready to learn very very quickly. Aside from the odd bit of netball and hurdles at High School I had nothing to show for me.

“Hannah!” I was pulled out of thought by the familiar voice. Ed. A first-year I had helped move in when I volunteered as a Welcome Day helper in September. He was slow jogging up behind me so I politely stopped walking to let him catch up. We weren’t exactly friends but we bumped into each often enough to always stop and talk.

We exchanged civilities and began to walk in step. I was partially still in my own world so Ed started the conversation.

“Heading home? What have you been up to?”

“Just had a job interview for the Union.”

“Oh nice, what for?”

“Receptionist.”

“Nice, my mate works there – says it’s a good spot to hear gossip. How do you think the interview went?”

I shrugged “I’m optimistic, but it’s still only the first round so it could all go tits up from here.”

He seemed to notice I was a bit out of it and considering we didn’t know each other that well, he wasn’t about to pry. Instead, he took an opportunity of a fork in the road to sign off and head in a different direction. It was only as he walked away from me that I noticed he was in trackies and had football boots hanging by their laces from his backpack. He must be off to the fields to play something. Then I remembered a conversation we’d had when I’d helped him move in 3 months ago.

“So, any societies in mind” I had asked with feigned positivity. It was a fantastic ice breaker for Freshers, especially since I was part of so many myself, I would probably be able to talk at length about them.

Pre-alcoholism and fresh faced Ed had matched my enthusiasm “It sounds stupid but I was thinking of Ultimate Frisbee – I didn’t do anything sport at school and they’re supposed to be really open to beginners”

“That sounds amazing! Go for it!” My positivity perfectly masking my disregard.

I had never asked him about it but I could guess he’d stuck to his plan and gone for it. Who would have thought someone was still taking something like Ultimate Frisbee so seriously? To be fair the only thing I knew of the sport was based on an old French teacher encouraging us at school to embrace new things at university. She had an ancient PowerPoint up on behind her with ideas on the slides that she clearly had no control over. When Ultimate Frisbee had come on, she had scoffed “Lord, students will do anything for an excuse to drink”.

But hey, it was a sport and Ed said it was open to beginners. I thought more about it when I got back home. What was there to lose? I could turn up, get a few pictures, join the Facebook groups and then if I got a second interview, I had something to say for sport.

I shot Ed a message.

Hey, I was thinking of joining your frisbee club – when’s the next training?

Hannah that’s great! We always need more women! But you’ve missed all the tasters so you’ll just have to come to normal training. It might be a bit intense.

That’s fine, I’m up for a challenge. Besides I’ve played football plenty of times before – I’m sure the athleticism will return to me [I lied]. What time?

10am Saturday and then we have indoor training on Sunday at 11am but it’s just games. Nothing serious.

See you then

Sorted. I was about to become an athlete. That evening, perfectly timed and faster than expected, I got an email inviting me for a second interview next Friday at midday. I would be ready for it.

***

Saturday arrived and as one should expect for Winter the weather was crap. It had rained all through the night and continued to cascade now. But as promised I was up and ready for my first day out on the pitches. The girls I lived with had all laughed at the thought of me out playing such a dumb sounding sport. They were convinced it was to get a boy’s attention and had to explain that no matter how good looking a boy was, he could never be worth associating with Ultimate Frisbee. The truth that it was for a job was considerably more embarrassing, so I just smiled and nodded at their ribbing.

I walked to the meadow off campus that Ed had said they trained at. My hair was already stuck to my face by the time I got there and the converses I was wearing had started to squelch within seconds of leaving the house. A small part of me regretted my decision, but I refused to give into it. Not after having been laughed at so much already.

Ed wasn’t there when I arrived but there was a healthy bustling mob of about 20 people throwing white plastic circles back and forth between them. I was in the right place. One guy, Chris, looked familiar from another society so I went up to say hi. Like Ed, I didn’t know him well so he was under no obligation to be nice to me but his response was still considerably more direct than I had anticipated

“You should probably go home if that’s what you’re planning on playing in.” He was looking straight down at my feet.

“No, it’s fine, they’re good shoes”

“Hannah, the ground is a mudslide. You need football boots or you’ll fall.” I looked around. Everyone on their feet had studs of some sort on, and the only few that didn’t were sitting on bags lacing them up. Yet, I was nothing if not stubborn.

“I’m tough I can fall.”

“Your funeral. But make sure you have some for next time.”

“Next time as in tomorrow?” I wasn’t sure if I could get to the shops in time. But I didn’t want to admit to not owning a pair at all.

“No. Why would you wear studs inside? Trainers are fine for that.”

I hadn’t spoken much to Chris before but our conversation left me with little desire to speak to him again. Unfortunately, though not unsurprisingly, he wasn’t the only person to comment on my shoes. A lot of people seemed keen to get me to sit out and just watch rather than join in and injure myself. Ed arrived with his flatmates, all of whom had joined Ultimate Frisbee at the same time. They were all friendlier than Chris so I managed to spend most of the warm-up just talking to them. When the captain called for all of our attention, he introduced me as a new member and mercifully didn’t comment on my converses. The rain was now pouring so heavily my vision was slightly too obscured to notice all the craned necks staring at me.

“We were supposed to run through some vert stack practices and maybe a few IOs and overheads” The captain bellowed; I didn’t know what half of that meant. “But considering some of you are new and the weather has decided to piss it down; I figure it’s a great opportunity for some lay-out practice” A small cheer went around the group of what I assumed were the more experienced players. But I had no idea what a lay-out was. It sounded like something I thought was part of Basketball but I was obviously no expert.

I turned to Ed “What’s a lay-out?”.

But the captain had continued talking. “So, it’s best if our women go off with Tina and guys stay with me here.”

We were being split up by gender? What could be so different we had to split based on gender?

All the other women started to emerge from the crowd and follow one girl who had been standing just slightly to the right of the team captain. She was short but obviously muscular even through her layers of insulation. This must be Tina. I sheepishly followed, trying to not draw attention to myself any more than I already did.

“Right,” shouted Tina above the rain once we’d got far enough away from the boys. “Even those of us in the itty-bitty titty committee know how hard it is to fall tit first onto the ground, so we’re going to learn how to lay-out safely with tits. Luckily the ground is super soft today so it won’t be as tough as in normal weather, but that’s why we really need to take the opportunity of rainy days like this to get our technique down – I don’t want to have to drive anyone else to A&E with a cracked rib.”

What the hell had I gotten myself into? For a job?

“So, we’ll start simple” Tina continued. “Everyone space out in a line and get onto your knees.” I followed the behaviour of the other women around me. Though I felt a small tear in my heart thinking about my nice cosy leggings I’d put on touching the mud below. My converses were obviously already ruined but did the rest of my clothes have to get completely mud-covered too? Yes. Yes, they did.

Tina instructed us to raise our arms out in front of us and then slowly dive from kneeling right into the mud. We repeated this multiple times.

“Now what you need to be focusing on is holding the upper part of your torso up as you land on the ground. As best as possible, your tummy should be the first thing to hit the ground. Focusing on this will protect you from any pain in the boob area.”

The group of us all did several more dives each time getting more and more mud caked onto our clothes and faces. We were then told that those of us who felt confident should try diving from a squat position and use our legs to propel. I gave it a go but couldn’t quite convince myself that diving into mud was really what I wanted.

The session continued slowly upping the ante before we reunited with all the boys and did one massive run into a lay-out. I was grateful for it to end. But also, appreciative that the mission objective of this session was so new to everyone that my ignorance wasn’t obvious. Aside from my footwear faux pas I had blended in reasonably well. Ed caught me as I was heading to leave and made some comment about seeing me tomorrow at the sports centre for indoors, nice and cosy and away from the rain. I smiled and agreed.

Back home, I thought it would be best to climb the fence into our back garden so I could come through the kitchen and not scatter mud across the carpet in the hall or living room. Two of my housemates were cooking as I got in and deluged into hysterics when they saw me. Covered head to toe in mud, sopping wet and shivering.

“All this for a boy!” they cackled as I hissed under my breath for a job. Their mockery only motivated me to stick with it. If they truly believed it was for a boy and I suddenly stopped going they might assume I had been rejected. I sure as hell was not about to be rejected by a boy that didn’t even exist.

It turned out Ultimate Frisbee on a Sunday was unoriginally referred to as Sunday Funday. Ed had been right; it was just back-to-back games. When you weren’t on the court you were lingering around the edges chatting to people. It was the perfect opportunity to not play and avoid demonstrating my lack of ability. The few points I did play brought me praise from the side-line, though it was in the same way a parent would praise a toddler for burping, yes it was very healthy but impressive – no.

I ended up in conversation with a guy who turned out to be the social secretary for the club, he eagerly invited me to one of their socials this Tuesday at a campus bar, I considered refusing but Tina appeared out of nowhere and started to insist that I went. Men outnumbered women here at least 3 to 1 so I had no trouble believing Ed about them always wanting more women. Now that I was here, they clearly didn’t want me to go, regardless of how useless I was.

***

My housemates seemed to be getting bored of the joke by Tuesday but still prayed to the gods of sex that I might be bringing someone home that night. I appreciated the sentiment but continuing this act of athleticism and not committing social suicide before Friday’s interview was my only priority. I needn’t have worried. Everyone continued to be nothing but friendly, aside from Chris who thankfully didn’t turn up. A few of the more laddish members who had been at Saturday’s session swung their arms around me and tried to introduce me to people I hadn’t met as “This is the bitch who turned up in converses for lay-out practice in the rain.” I think they meant it nicely?

At one point while I was at the bar ordering my fourth pint of snakebite, reminiscing about my French teacher’s words, Ed came and found me, clearly exceptionally drunk and bubbly.

“Hannah, Hannah – what are you doing on Friday at 16:00?” he said while wobbling slightly.

It didn’t take long for me to think “I have a seminar – why?”

“Damn. Mike and I entered the 5-a-side league but we’re short one person. I was going to ask if you wanted to play?”

My heart began to race. I had only gone to two trainings and already I was being invited to play for a tournament. I didn’t even know Ultimate Frisbee was big enough here for them to have a 5-a-side league. It seemed like the whole club was here and there can’t have been more than 40 people. Though I suppose if all of them participated it could work. But me? Being chosen so soon? This was gold dust. I could use this.

“You know what – I have perfect attendance for that module anyway – count me in!”

“Yes! Thanks so much Hannah – I knew you’d be cool about it! I’m going to go and tell Mike.” Ed dashed off into the throng of pub goers towards a guy I hadn’t met yet but was very comfortably and publicly scratching his arse. That must be Mike.

Aside from a few drunken falls that ripped my tights and stained my legs – traumatically with mud – my journey home from the bar was pretty faultless for someone whose final tally was 10 pints of snakebite. As I lay down to bed though, my chest felt fuller than my stomach. I felt the warm glow of a successful weekend amalgamating.

***

Once the hangover passed, Ed sent me a message confirming our conversation from the night before. 16:00 Friday at the 3g pitches on campus – no mud. I realised I still wasn’t sure how a game of Ultimate Frisbee really worked so spent all the free time before the interview trying to google it. The language I came across seemed completely foreign to me. Annoyingly, every time I searched 5-a-side Ultimate Frisbee, I only came across Ultimate Frisbee as its own sport and 5-a-side football. I realised it must just be something that my student union put on and not a standard thing. At least I knew some of the rules and I convinced myself it would be the same as the games we had played on Sunday since each team indoors played with just 5 people. Just strange that no one on Sunday had referred to it as 5-a-side.

I strolled into the interview on Friday prepped and ready. Two sabbatical officers were interviewing me this time around so the questions were largely repeating from last week. I wasn’t complaining. It meant I got a second attempt. This time when they went through my experience, I was able to add sport to it, I got to brag about my upcoming tournament and praise the student union for organising a league for a sports team that was so small. They looked a little confused but didn’t linger on my answer. I left with my head held high. I had killed that interview for sure.

As the door to the union building closed behind me I felt a buzz in my pocket. A message from Ed.

Hey Hannah, just to say our reserve has dropped out so we’ll be iron manning it today if that’s still ok with you. Also, I should have said there’s no pressure. This is our fourth game this season and we haven’t won anything. If in doubt just pass the ball back to the goalie.

Goalie? So, I didn’t know much about Ultimate Frisbee but I was sure it didn’t have a goalie. How could it, they used Endzones not goals. I turned sharply round and headed back into the student union.

“Hi there, excuse me?” I asked the receptionist; I had a small smug desire to be as polite as possible as I suspected we would soon be working together. “Is it possible for you to tell me who has booked the 3g pitches tomorrow at 16:00?” The young man smiled and nodded. I heard the mouse tapping as he scrolled through pages.

“That would be the 5-a-side league booked by soccer society.”

Soccer. Yup. He said Soccer. Fuck, what had I done?

“Thanks so much – my boyfriend is playing and I just wanted to make sure I’d got the right time for him.” Why was I still lying? Hadn’t it already done enough damage! Lord, it was an unhealthy compulsion at this point.

I hurried home panicking. How could I save face? I couldn’t drop out. That would look so suspicious and would probably mean Ed and Mike’s team would have to forfeit the league. That wasn’t my problem though. Or was it? I had told them I could, maybe that would have got in the way of them trying to find someone else. I grabbed the first housemate I came across when I got in and offloaded my situation. She had to laugh but my stress was starting to consume me - body and soul. I had less than 3 hours to get good at football.

“You know Emily next door plays for the women’s team” My housemate said in between laughs “You should ask her for tips.”

Yes – perfect. Emily. The girl next door, who I had never even said two words to. I ran round and banged on their door. I knew a couple of her housemates from parties but wasn’t too close with any of them. The guy that opened the door to me look shocked; which only increased when I asked for Emily. He called up to her and she thankfully came running down. Unlike my housemate she didn’t seem to find the situation funny at all, in fact, I think she was too stoned to really register any kind of emotion.

“Look, it’s just kicking a ball around. If someone else gets the ball then try and kick it away from them, by, you know, kicking it.”

“Ok, but do I have a mark or a position to stay in?”

She shrugged “I dunno. 5-a-side is for little kids, I don’t play it. But hey. Do you know what a goalie does?” I nodded aggressively. “Just play as goalie. All you have to do is block the ball and don’t leave that box if you’re too scared to.”

Amazing. Perfect. I would fight to be the goalie. I could do that. I could totally do that.

Before I left, Emily kindly gave me a pair of football socks and an old baggy jersey of hers. It was what I needed to act like I belonged. I had enough time to get showered and dressed before heading back up to campus for what might well be the worst thing, I ever talked myself into doing. I couldn’t even be angry at Ed, I literally told him I played football, why would he assume I was a lying psychopath who pretends to play sports for extra credibility in job interviews? That receptionist job better be worth it.

I power walked up to the pitches, not because I wanted to be there but out of an inability to control my anxious adrenaline. I met Ed and Mike at the pitches. Mike characteristically stood with both hands in his shorts, supposedly using his testicle heat as an organic hand warmer. I politely declined the handshake he offered.

“So that over there is Rish, he’s a friend of a friend and that tall guy is called Mike too but we don’t actually know him. He was just playing tennis on the pitch as we arrived – someone else dropped out so we sort of had to ask him.” Ed was pointing at two guys kicking a ball back and forth. All 8 of the 3g pitches had 5-a-side games going on. I couldn’t help noticing that there were no other women on any of them. It was truly just me.

“Oh, you’ll love our team’s name Hannah, I thought of it myself,” Mike said gleefully. “We’re called Exeter Gently.” He laughed unaware or uncaring of my cringe. For the thousandth time in the past 3 hours, I couldn’t help asking myself “what have I done”.

“So, what position do you want to play in?” Ed asked, also ignoring Mike’s contribution.

“Goalie.” I said without hesitation.

“You sure Hannah, that can be quite tough?”

I nodded, at long last, my anxiety had won me over and I was thoroughly speechless. Let’s just get this over with.

The team we faced had 3 subs and all 8 turned up in matching red kits. It was intimidating but it was designed to be intimidating especially to teams like Exeter Gently who had to wear old unwashed green bibs just to match.

I took my place in goal realising almost fatally that I didn’t know what I was supposed to do here either. How far could I run out? Was I expected to run out? I knew I could touch the ball with my hand if I wanted but how physical would it get with the other players?

The game began and I hung back patiently hoping that my team was good. I knew that if we were a good team then I wouldn’t be needed. I hoped against hope that we were secretly the best team in the league but I was proven very quickly wrong. Hardly a minute had gone by before the ball flew at me, hitting my left tit with such force it rebounded itself away and back into play away from the goal. It was a shame Tina wasn’t here to help me protect my tits.

Tennis Mike got the ball and dribbled it perfectly around the other team, passing to Rish near the other team’s goal. Rish instead of attempting to score tripped over the ball and the other team got possession. Fear began to brew in me again but like a swooping osprey, Tennis Mike was back at it, tackling the team in red until he regained complete dominion of the ball. It seemed as if he had learnt his mistake and took the ball right to score.

First goal to Exeter Gently.

The game continued much in the same vein. Both Mike’s were decent players with Tennis Mike being the star of the show. When the ball was with either of them, I could assume I was safe. At all other times, I was in the danger zone. Two more times I stopped the other team from scoring by just getting in the way and while my skull and my abdomen didn’t thank me for it, my self-esteem felt strong. Once I even managed to catch it but then didn’t have a clue how to get it back into play. I delicately placed it back on the ground and kicked it softly to Ed who was instantly intercepted by the other team for a goal. It would be too easy, in this instance, to blame myself.

It was impossible to work out how long we went on like this but by the time the whistle blew and all matches came to a halt, Exeter Gently, by some bizarre magic – likely named Mike – had won: 7-4. I took no glory in this, only relief that it was over. It was nice to see the red team who oozed football laddishness looking so dejected, especially against the only team with a girl on, but all I could think about going home and getting into a nice warm bath. Ideally never speaking of this again.

I didn’t join the others at the pub afterwards but Ed did drop me a message two weeks later asking if I wanted to join as they were a couple of men down again. I lied and said I had an assessment and he knowingly never asked again. It was for the best.

***

While my football career never took off, I ended up attending every single Ultimate Frisbee training session for the rest of the year, fully joining in the new term. It took only another month of practise before I was invited to actually play in an Ultimate Frisbee tournament with the women’s team, which we lost… catastrophically. I have played with several winning teams in the years since, even beating the national team for Luxembourg at their own tournament. I have played in Italy and Spain and even score kept at the European Beach Championships in Portugal which remains one of the most enjoyable and rewarding weeks of my life.

I have since tried to keep my lies to a minimum. Being open-minded is great but fabricating your skills and interests will just get you standing in a goal box with a football getting slammed into your face. The friends and experiences I have gained from that one week of deluded lies have brought more value to my life than I could have possibly imagined on that cold Saturday morning soaked in the rain. I have learnt so much through it, not least that mud really isn’t too bad as long as you have a warm shower to climb into.

***

Oh – and I didn’t get the job.