You don’t know me, but I’m a sport.
My name is baton (hello, baton), and I sometimes feel invisible. I am a sport that is performed by athletes. The strongest of athletes. The kind of athletes that can get smacked in the face with a metal stick, and yet strive to continue minutes of choreography.
I am a sport that contains gymnastics, dancing and coordination. To perfect me takes years, and is difficult to achieve. Some athletes choose me because I am different and impose a challenge. Some athletes DON’T choose me because they don’t know who I am, or what I can do.
I can change a person. Make a child into a strong individual. Make them understand that dropping me in a routine only makes them stronger, and that injuries only show hard work. I unknowingly cause concussions, broken bones, bruised limbs and stolen free time, but I promise it all makes sense in the future. I will teach you that broken noses, bruised hands or busy weekends of training with me are all worth it because you get to advance in a sport you love. You get to be unbreakable and unstoppable, even just for those few minutes you’re performing with me. And don’t listen to what others say. They don’t know me, but I’m a sport.
As a sport, you have to start with me at a young age. Advancing does not come easy. People will tell you that you are not graceful enough, that you are awkward with me, or you drop me too much. Don’t listen to them. You will train with me for hours, sometimes every day for years just to prove them wrong. Your shoes have holes in them due to spinning and turning and leaping, your thumbs are callused and bruised due to tossing and your shoulders are sore from rolling me around your neck. Your body learns to do the impossible with just me by your side. And people say I’m not a sport…
People “ooo” and “aww” when they see you with me, yet they think it is so easy. Strangers pick me up and play with me thinking they are professionals, and then later realize an easy novice trick is not so easy, and can’t be picked up in five minutes.
My competitions are not seen on TV, even though thousands of twirlers attend them. Nationally and World ranked teams of my kind are unknown to those outside of my world, even though they have defeated many. I am performed during halftime at football games at universities, but only by those that allow me.
Old movies portray my athletes as girls with knee high boots, high step marching and minimal tricks. But in reality, my athletes wear stretchy shoes with rubber bottoms to grip the floor during jumps. My athletes throw me up and spin four, five, maybe six times and catch me. My athletes toss me in the air and do walkovers while they wait for me to come down. And people say I’m not a sport…
My athletes call me their sport. They are dedicated and faithful. No one is more proud than my athletes, and to them I am grateful.
I will forever be their sport.