Sport Hurts!

Idealistically speaking, sport crosses boundaries and promotes health, well-being and friendship.

In a bid to expand our minuscule social circles and reduce our waistlines, we had recently joined sports clubs.

A couple a weeks ago I signed up to play Over 35's football, or soccer as they say over here. Despite not having kicked a round ball in anger for a few years, I thought it would be a good way of tapping into the local British expat community.

All Brits love footy. Even I've found myself hankering to watch it over here, whereas previously, back home, I wouldn't have bothered unless Everton were involved.

Sure enough, the first night of training proved my theory to be true - around three-quarters of the old duffers there were British. I was surprised at the numbers, I knew there were a few poms in the area but I didn't think there were this many. It was almost like being at home as they hung around in their little cliques not bothering to greet an unfamiliar face.

Over the last couple of months I've become accustomed to overwhelming Australian friendliness and it felt quite odd being largely ignored by people.

Seeing as I didn't have the distraction of finding out what people had been up to during the off season, I threw myself into the game with vigour. I didn't do too badly for an egg-chaser and almost enjoyed myself. It was nice to hear some British wit/sarcasm once again as some of the 'efforts' on goal went out for throw-ins.

Some of the 'stiff-upper lips' did show signs of wilting during the session by muttering the odd word to me and one even took the very unBritish step of introducing himself. I was beginning to think that, given time, I may be allowed to join this social elite.

Such thoughts were banished though as I spent most of a sleepless night nursing my worn-out knees. The ground, as you'd expect for a region in drought, was bone-hard and my knees felt like they were on fire in the hours that followed.

Work, the following day, was torture and I can't remember wanting a day to end as desperately as I wanted this one to. I decided that my season was over before it had even begun and that I'd have to find other ways of making friends and keeping fit.

A possible solution came to me a couple of days into my 're-hab' - the hitherto untried sport of softball. With a name like that it can't be too dangerous surely. I rang the local team and with typical Australian friendliness we were welcomed into the fold immediately. We went down to the training session and I played, the wife played and the kids had a run too. At last, I thought, a sport that we can all take part in. They even loaned us some equipment so we could practice at home. They like a beer too, a further bonus.

The wife signed up for the ladies team and, fittingly, I joined the men's.

The girls season starts before the boys, so on Saturday we all went to cheer the wife and her team on in their opening game. It was an evenly matched game and the wife was performing adequately in the outfield. Soon, she got her turn to bat, and learnt the hard way what an inappropriately named game softball is, when she glanced a fastball straight into her grid.

The sound of the ball cannoning off her mush echoed around the ground and everyone rushed to her aid. She managed to keep her feet though and was steadied by the home-plate umpire and the opposition catcher.

As her team-mates and I approached, I had a flashback to the time when I belted my old mate Hed in the gob with a squash racket and he spat four of his front teeth out. This seemed a much harder wallop and I pictured the wife with a Joe Jordan-esque smile. Oh no! We haven't even got a dentist yet!

As it turned out it wasn't as bad as I had initially thought. Although she was a bit shaken up and played no further part in the game, all her teeth remained in her head. She has loosened her crown though and is booked into our brand new dentist this week. Additionally, she has a wicked 'fat' lip and an even wickeder 'Hitler' style bruise under her beak.

So, be warned kids, sport hurts - go hard or go home!