Bubble Soccer

bubble 6

So yesterday I tried bubble soccer for the first time. A new concept to me personally, I have only heard about it a few weeks ago, but it sounded interesting enough to jump on the opportunity, not to mention the feeling of safety conveyed by the word “bubble”. Seriously, add “bubble” to anything and I bet anyone would be willing to try it no matter how cautious and unadventurous they were. Bubble mountain climbing, bubble sky diving, bubble shark swimming, you name it. (Actually after naming them I’m ot so sure, but bubbles are cozy, you get the idea.)

I went with a group of family and friends, we were split into two teams, the blue team and the red team – I was in the blue team. There were two sizes of bubble to choose from depending on your height and physique, so it was kind of unfair when you, wearing a small bubble and struggling to move, got hit by a bulldozer coming your way in the form of a giant red bubble. However, and the fun of it is, it doesn’t matter. Once you get the first hit and even fall down you realize: You’re inside a bubble, you can take all the knocks you have time for and fall down as many times as you have to. It’s beautiful, really.

The first game we played was good old football. Of course, being inside your bubble means you’re partially visually impaired with limited mobility. As soon as I heard the whistle I saw an army of circle shaped objects stuffed with people running everywhere. I started running aimlessly as I couldn’t see the ball anyway, and the next thing I knew I was on the ground and my shoe came off. Of course when it’s your first fall your hands are already full with the challenge of getting up, so a flying shoe is adding insult to injury. Thankfully though, the shoe was close enough that it wasn’t a problem. Anyway, we played football for 12 minutes, and we, the blue team were victorious.

For the second game each team had to choose one of the teammates as a “King”, and just like in chess, his teammates had to protect him while the other team tried to knock him down. We played 3 rounds, we won the first round, and the second, and in the third they said we had to choose a “Queen”, which means a girl must be chosen, and since our team had only me and a slender, fragile-looking 17 year-old, so it had to be me, despite not being so steady on my feet, especially after being knocked down more times that I had counted during the previous games. But, thankfully we had a good defense and our team managed to knock their queen down before they could get to ours, and we won again.

The last game was Sumo wrestling. I was up first, my opponent was a irl my height but she couldn’t have weighed much more than 40 kilos so I thought: “I can take her down.” Somehow though she pushed me out of the ring, which was pathetic, and surprising. Well, maybe she had more willpower. In my defense, I hadn’t slept in 3 days. What was even more pathetic is that she herself was eliminated next by the aforementioned fragile 17 year-old, who was her sister by the way. I guess you could ever guess how these things will turn out, but of course the final winner was one of the big tall guys, the strong eating the weak, there was little use for wits on the playground, it was all bone and muscle. The winner was one of the red team, for a change.

It was a fun experience, but thinking about it later on made me think of the other metaphorical bubbles we wrap ourselves inside in life. They are not that different. They shield you from people, they make you more resistant to life knocks which might make you think you’re stronger than you really are, and most importantly: they are exhausting. They make it hard to breathe, and you know you’re better off without them. And you know you can’t stay in your bubble forever, but you also know it’s a good resort from time to time.

For more info on bubble soccer in Amman visit: https://www.facebook.com/ATeam.JO?fref=photo

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