COLUMN: Handball–where there’s a wall, there’s a way
People take some dumb things pretty seriously. Recently, I went home and found long and detailed notes that I made as a kid about my “Baseball Stars” team on Nintendo.
Some grown-ups also take dumb things a little too seriously. Have you seen these eating competitions on TV where people eat something like a thousand hot dogs in 10 minutes?
If this was just a skill they showed off at parties I would be impressed. But these guys train for competitions by doing throat and mouth exercises. I saw one guy whose marriage broke up because he was so focused on winning the cheese eating championship.
If I had seen the video “Alley Cracker, the Story of Handball” a couple of months ago, I would have thought these people were a little over the edge on a pretty dumb game.
That was before I signed up for the first handball class to be offered at Utah State University in 25 years. I didn’t sign up on purpose mind you.
Since I was 2, sports have been my life. Unfortunately, if I continued playing my sports of choice I would end up dead, or worse yet, a grumpy old man with arthritis.
So I knew that I had to find a sport that I could play until I was 90. I chose racquetball.
I walked into class the first day of the semester where they informed me that this had been changed to a handball class. I decided to stay for a day and then switch into a racquetball class.
Well, after an hour I felt like a sorority girl with a credit card at the mall. It was pretty fun stuff I tell you.
I added a racquetball class the next day, but last week, with 20 credits on my schedule, I decided I should drop either handball or racquetball. I dropped racquetball.
I asked Herm Olsen, a local lawyer who teaches the handball class at Utah State, why people play racquetball instead of handball.
“It’s easier,” Olsen said.
Tom O’Conner, a handball historian, (I’m serious, that’s what he said he was) put it this way: “It’s the sheer fun of chasing and hitting a ball with your hand.”
Hopefully his historical research goes beyond this, but he’s right. It’s fun.
“Aerobically it’s terrific, you won’t get hurt, and anyone can play,” Olsen said. “Where there’s a wall, there’s a way.”
So why would Olsen, a 53-year-old lawyer, come and teach a bunch of punk kids like us how to play handball?
“We [Olsen and his gray-haired friends] noticed there weren’t any young people playing the sport,” Olsen said. “I’m old as dirt and I was the youngest, so we asked the school if we could teach a class to reintroduce young people to this terrific sport.”
The result: A bunch of kids complaining about sore hands. One 24-year-old broadcast journalism student from Denver, Colo., who wished to remain anonymous, was overheard on the first day of class saying “Ouchy! I think I broke a nail.”.
The first day they gave us the proper equipment, which included two layers of gloves.
“I don’t need no stinking gloves,” I thought to myself.
After a couple hits I was wishing that I had Nerf soccer balls on my hands. Things have gotten better.
After your hands get used to it, handball is a mostly pain-free game.
“I’ve had five knee surgeries, but they’re all from basketball,” Olsen said. “Basketball is a dark and evil sport for knees. But in handball, I haven’t hurt myself once.”
Not only is Olsen an unpaid volunteer, he may actually lose money teaching this class. He says if his knees hold up he will pay any student in his class $100 if they can beat him.
The goal in this class, and what Olsen hopes to be many classes to come, is to “start building a core of good handball players at Utah State.”
“I’m just really pleased that 15 brave souls are willing to stick it out, learn a new sport, and have some fun,” Olsen said.
So after a few weeks’ experience with this exhilarating sport, I feel like those crazy guys who take those eating competitions so seriously. I’ll just try not to lose my marriage over it.
Clark Jessop is a senior majoring in broadcast journalism. Comments can be sent to clarkjessop@cc.usu.edu.