Maybe Tomorrow I'll Wanna Settle Down

OK, so here goes. Yesterday, I went to Oxford to play in my very first tournament for Bec Korfball Club. I didn't score but I managed to referee a semi-final, which I was pleased with, and I had a throroughly enjoyable day. In the evening, we returned to London, to watch a strange bunch of Finnish rockers win the Eurovision Song Contest.

Korfball, as I know most of you will want me to explain, is something of a minority sport that originated in Holland about a century ago. It has superficial similarities to basketball and netball but is tactically rather different, not least because it requires mixed teams of men and women who are not allowed to mark one another. It is also specifically designed to minimise the height advantage which blights the other sports, and to reward teamwork rather than individual play. I chose to adopt it because, scarred by school games lessons, I wished to find a growing sport in which I would be welcome, despite my general ineptness, and in which, if I am marked out of the game by my own teammates, they will at least be punished by the opposition.

I played for four and a half years for one club, in which I became heavily involved in the committee, and made lots of friends, and then decided to leave for Bec a couple of months ago. I did this for a number of reasons but primarily because a sinister presence came into the club and created a rather unpleasant atmosphere. When this happens, I always feel compelled to challenge it and there are two possible consequences. Either the problem with be resolved, and a compromise reached, or the manipulation and put-downs will intensify and start to get nastier. Because I am immune to victimisation (unusually as it turns out) this means that I have no choice but to make my excuses and leave, so that is what I did.

Hence I find myself, once again, making a brand new start, trying to build new friendships, while desperately clinging onto the old ones as they begin to drift away. I now understand why others do not make the choices that I do, why they choose not to fight and just go with the flow. I am no longer surprised by that attitude although it still disappoints me. If they were prepared to do so, then perhaps I would no longer be like the Littlest Hobo, and have to keep moving on.

When I was younger, I was incredibly needy, and desperate to be liked. I always assumed that, as I became older, wiser, and more confident, I would find it easier to form the really strong long-term friendships that I desired. I have gained hugely in self-confidence, but increasingly, I wonder whether my development will go the other way and, like Dawn from Big Brother, I will decide that I no longer need people in my life at all. This no longer seems like a tragedy but perhaps the pragmatic solution that will make me the happiest.

But I still hope not. The situation at my new club is going well and, while I certainly still have trust issues, I feel that they are winning me over. Maybe, with any luck, I am feeling weirdly disoriented in a way analogous to the experience of people who finally give up their pathological love interests for a stable and healthy alternative. However, unfortunately, I wouldn't know because that is also a sensation for which I am still waiting. But that is another story.