While I was wrapping my hands during a boxing class not too long ago, I realized what a deliberate process it was. We took our time wrapping so we could get it right every time. We rewrapped when necessary. And we never rushed the process since we knew the better the wrap job, the more comfortable and more protected our hands would be, and the better and more enjoyable the workout. This hand-wrapping process isn’t absolutely necessary for a boxing workout, but certainly is a smart move. And more than anything, it’s part of the ceremony of the sport – those things that help us get ready for and enjoy the sport, but aren’t actually part of the process of playing the game, running or rowing the race, or fighting the fight.
I’ve been playing sports my entire life. I’ve played soccer, softball, basketball, and ice hockey and rowed crew and ran track on competitive teams, as well as played tennis and volleyball on club teams and briefly trained as a boxer. And, I play a mean game of air hockey, too. Needless to say, that’s a lot of teams and a lot of games and races.
I think my first uniform was a t-ball shirt and cap when I was five. It was blue with white writing and simply said “T-BALL” across the front in fuzzy white letters. They were fuzzy because that’s what t-shirt lettering was in the early 80s. And that’s what I remember about my first year of t-ball in 1981 or 1982. I don’t remember learning how to hit or field or run the bases or any of my great plays or horrible errors. I only remember that uniform. Even at five, that uniform was part of my ceremony of the sport – that and getting my first baseball glove.
Similarly, when I was a rower in college, much of our time was spent in a ceremonial process of preparation and not actually rowing. We’d get up at 5:30am, get down to the boathouse by 6am, take our shell off the wall in the boathouse (and each rowing team of four or eight people had their own specific boat…and the more novice the team the heavier the boat, so that first year consisted of lifting quite a heavy boat off the wall), take out the oars and get them ready, and finally push out after 20 or 30 minutes of preparation. Then we’d row for an hour or an hour and a half, and then we’d put the boat away at the end of practice using the same process in reverse. Aside from all the breathtaking moments on the water at dawn and dusk calmly but briskly rowing our asses off, these are the moments I remember about crew. They were the ceremony of the sport that set it aside from all other sports.
Getting all those new uniforms and new pieces of sports equipment through the years has always been ceremonial – like an induction into a new season or era. Likewise, doing all those things before and after playing – putting equipment on and taking it off, rolling out and up the yoga mat, getting the boat ready and putting it away – all make the experience of each sport unique and ceremonial. And it’s these moments that I always remember years later.
