When I was in 9th grade I decided to reinvent myself as a sporty person. I’d course I picked field hockey as the the sport that would define my new sporty person life: because it was a sport that we hadn’t played much in middle school, making it seem possible that unlike soccer or swimming, my talent had simply not yet had the opportunity to come to the fore. I also picked field hockey because you got to wear a cute tartan skirt while playing.
My dad compared it to playing golf while running. And fearing for the chances my eyes would have when meeting a flying stick, he decided I should wear some eye protection when I played. Which he sourced for me from the lab where he worked.
You can imagine how embarrassing that was. Barreling down the field after a ball while wearing lab safety goggles. And missing the ball, because it transpired that I was not good at hockey after all.
But maybe less embarrassing than the fact that a few weeks ago, I selected an almost identical pair of frames to be my actual glasses.
