You know, I never really believed in the oft-quoted tale about Cupid and his arrow.
Which tale?
Oh, you know. The one about how you are destined to fall hopelessly and madly in love with the next person you meet if Cupid’s arrow strikes you.
But what if it’s an oval-shaped ball that hits you instead?
Then, I guess it’d depend very much on whether the pass itself came from Cupid – or not.
~
I started playing touch rugby when I entered University, and the moment I laid my hands on that oval-shaped ball, I knew I was hooked on the sport.
As long as there was a chance for a game, all anyone had to do was give me a ring, and I’d be there, come rain or shine.
So naturally, it was on a damp and muddy field one evening that I found myself lying flat on my back in the midst of a game.
Together with one very worried-looking face staring down at me.
“Are you alright?” the face asked, as other faces soon came into my line of blurred sight.
A weak smile was all I could manage before I felt the warmth of many human hands cradle me and lift me up to bring me to a drier spot next to the field.
“What happened?” I asked as we meandered in a bumpy fashion toward the bleachers by the side of the field.
“I’m so sorry,” Seraphina said, the worry creasing her face even more.
“I meant to pass the ball into your hands, but it somehow went smack into your face. Then you slipped and bashed your head against the ground.”
“Oh,” I said, as she and the rest placed me down gingerly on the concrete floor.
“Will you be fine?” someone else asked. “Is it alright if we carry on playing?”
“Go on ahead,” Seraphina told the rest. “I’ll stay here and look after him.”
~
By then, I had recovered enough to sit up against one of the stone seats for support, so while Seraphina and I watched the rest play, we shared a bit about ourselves with each other.
It seems that Seraphina had also picked up the sport around the same time as I had, and like me, she loved the game to bits.
The more we spoke, the more I realised how similar our interests were – we liked the same kind of music, enjoyed reading and writing, and were suckers for Indian cuisine.
Eventually, the rest of the players trudged over to the bleachers to call it a day, bringing our conversation to a close.
“I guess that’s it for today then,” Seraphina said.
“Yeah. It was a good game. ‘Was’ being the operative,” I said, smiling.
Seraphina grinned and said, “Aiyah. But you’re feeling okay, right? No dizziness or anything?”
“Nah,” I shrugged. “I’m fine. Thanks, anyway. I really appreciate it.”
“What? You’re thanking me for knocking you out?” she asked, laughing.
“Oh yes. Thanks for reminding me,” I said in mock chagrin. “I haven’t settled that score with you.”
“Then how?” she teased.
~
Needless to say, I got her number and asked her out, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Seraphina and I have been happily in love for the last three years now, and that we owe in no small part to the power of touch.
Cupid did indeed score a try when that ball was thrown at me, for not only did touch rugby bring Seraphina and I together; it has helped keep us together.
Apart from the occasional gig we go to, and the odd meal at Little India when we make our frequent forays there, we’ve also been playing touch rugby together, both competitively and socially.
Not only does that provide a common topic that we can spend hours on, we also have a common social network in which we interact with friends and vice versa.
That has helped us to connect quite a bit, but it isn’t only the bonding over shared interests that has brought us closer together.
In fact, it is precisely because playing touch rugby is so much like being in a relationship that it is almost possible to apply what you can learn from the game to real life with a fair amount of success.
I can name countless examples – the need for communication during the game, teamwork for cooperation, commitment to stay the course of a play, etc.
But most importantly, I think you have to love the sport with all of your heart for it to be able to love you back in turn.
Of course, I don’t mean to say that the knowledge from playing touch rugby is all one needs to make a relationship work; a relationship between two people is made up of so much more than just drills and plays.
But I do believe it’s possible to use the principles and lessons from a sport like touch rugby to augment the realities of a relationship in order to help it to grow.
And I’m saying this with the weight of first-hand experience behind me.
~
You know, after all that has been said and done, I still don’t believe in the tale about Cupid and his arrow.
In all fact, the phrase ‘Cupid’s arrow’ and its ensuing tale have actually taken on special meaning for me.
How special?
Well, let’s just say that whenever any talk of Cupid and his arrow chances by my ear, I usually look at the speaker with a grin on my face, and ask:
“Don’t you mean Cupid’s ‘ball’ instead?”
