The title? Absolutely misleading—it should’ve been the opposite. I’ve rarely won at sports, but my love for them has never waned. Cricket, tennis, athletics, table tennis, carrom, chess, and mind games—if time allowed, I tried to watch them all. Though I never learned the rules of football, hockey, or rugby, I could still enjoy the occasional match. During a recent trip to Seattle, I even listened to an ice hockey game—a tough and thrilling sport.

However, playing sports was a different story. Anxiety often got the better of me during competitions. In casual games, I performed well, but under the pressure of a championship, I’d buckle, losing even to weaker opponents. The only exception was cricket. In cricket, my intensity doubled during serious matches. My speed and aggression flourished, and I often excelled against neighboring teams.

Other games didn’t go as well. In table tennis, my wrist stiffened, my eyes failed to track the ball, and my footwork faltered under pressure. Even in carrom, my normally smooth strokes would become erratic. I once played against a top-ranked player in the bank’s tournament. Surprisingly, I won the first game with ease, catching both him and me off guard. However, in the second game, I made a silly mistake and watched as he pocketed seven coins in a row, ending my challenge abruptly.

Chess was a bit different. When I was in the right mood, my moves were brilliant. If not, they were disastrous. Still, since it wasn’t a motor-skill-based game, I fared better in chess than in other sports.

Despite my enthusiasm, I never won any in-house tournaments. That was the extent of my sports career—participation without victory.

Contd. 324. Step By Step Regress