There's no 'I' in team

In my first year my house committee organised a variety of activities and sport events to engage with where we competed against other residences. This would, and should, have been a great way to meet other students to make friends and connections. Except, no one in my house was athletically incline. Excluding Mbali- she’s life exception. She plays netball and rugby and still tops her class? That isn’t human.

Anyway.

The point is none of the first years particularly wanted to join in on a sport event on a Saturday morning. Especially after a long night of drinking. But guess what? That’s exactly what happened.

My shrill alarm went off and I grunted a displeased groan. “No,” I mumbled, turning over and burying my face into my pillow. “I’m not getting up.” I lay there for a blissful few seconds before panic set in.

“Shit!” I hauled my ass out of bed and glanced at the floor.

“Tarryn,” I yelled and wiggled her foot. “Wake up, we have hockey.”

She groaned but didn’t wake up.

“Tarryn, we don’t want hours. Get up.”

Jumping over her body I grabbed the first pair of shorts I could find and shrugged on a random t-shirt. That got her attention and she jumped up and ran out of the room swearing. I’ve never wanted to crawl back into bed so badly in my life. But I powered through the growing headache and miserably made my way down the stairs to the bench outside. There sat a small group of girls who looked about as happy as I felt.

And then there was Mirren, looking as if the reaper itself possessed her body.

“How are you feeling?” I asked when I reached the table. She looked me dead in the eye and I saw no twinkle of life, just the cold embrace of death.

“Not good bro,” She replied gripping the bench seat. “Not good.”

“Okay!” Lana clapped her hands together and Mirren winced at the abrupt sound. “I think everyone is here, let’s go.”

As our head student walked us to the athletics field, Mirren and I debated our life decisions. It was nearing 9am and it was almost thirty degrees - my reasons for being unhappy were only escalating.

Now, we’re a group of majority hungover students, somehow roped into playing on a Saturday morning. Everyone else who were there? Actual professionals.

I’m talking hockey sticks, shin pads, head bands, caps, bottles of water, and most of all, a will to live.

We showed up in sneakers and sweatpants. I’m fairly sure one girl was wearing slippers.

“Uh,” Lana looked around at the daunting teams. “I’m going to go find some sticks and find out when we’re going to play. Why don’t you girls try find some shade?”

So there we were, lined up against the building trying our best not to fall asleep. When Lana returned she looked sheepish. “So our match isn’t for another hour, just chill, maybe-.” She glanced at Mirren. “Catch a nap?”

We all groaned, and Mirren’s head fell to Myticia’s shoulder. “I’m dying.”

When the time came for our match we grabbed out sticks and huddled up. “Here’s the thing,” Lana started, drawing us in closer by her whisper. “If you guys win, we have to stay here longer and play again.”

Everyone looked at each other for a moment.

“So we’re losing right?”

“Yes, we’re losing.”

As we all walked onto the pitch Lana grabbed Mirren’s arm, “Maybe you should sit out?”

“Thank God,” Mirren muttered and gave everyone else a thumbs up. “I’ll be the mascot. Go Oriel!” She weakly whooped and plopped herself onto the floor.

Have you ever watched a group of hungover girls attempt to play hockey? It’s easily the most disrespectful play Hockey has ever witnessed and the funniest thing I have ever seen.

We all had one goal in mind, to lose at any means necessary. It was strangely harder than we thought it would be.

The whistle blew, and Alexia got the ball. We passed it around a bit, messing about while not trying to get ourselves hit.

Somehow Myticia hit it too hard and Tarryn freaked out, blocking so the ball wouldn’t hit her leg. The ball ricocheted off her stick and tumbled into the goal post.

We all blinked at each other.

“Why the fuck did you guys score?” Lana yelled from the side lines. Mirren slapped her forehead.

“How?” would have been a better question.

And so the first half ended with Oriel leading 1-0, the opposing team couldn’t understand why we were more upset than they were.

When the second half started we had a new energy to lose, and we refused to…win.

Within the first few minutes the opposing team scored and we cheered happily, baffling everyone.

Somewhere along the line we actually got into the match and started to play a little seriously, which was not a good idea and gave our head student heart palpitations.

“Get the ball!” I screamed as I ran to another player. Lunging I hit the ball away from her and towards Tarryn.

In a fit of excitement she ran after the ball, stick poised and ready to go. But it wasn’t meant to be. In her rush her feet got confused and she ended up tripping in slow motion, her stick flying up into the air as her face crashed into the ground.

She lay there, in a heap of limbs, before yelling, “I’m okay!” and scrambling up to her feet. We lost it. The whole team was bent over laughing, and there on the side lines was our esteemed leader, cackling.

When the game resumed the opposing team got the ball and we chased after it in a hurry until it clicked that this would mean they would win and that we would lose.

Everyone stopped dead in the tracks and watched a girl score the winning goal in an empty net.

“Yay!” The Oriel girls screamed and went around hugging each other while the other team looked at us like we were crazy.

Lana came onto the pitch with a big grin. “I am so proud of you guys.”