Athlete emerges later in life

Team sports aren’t my thing — I learned this early in life. I tried out for our school softball team in the seventh grade and — based on my, um, athletic abilities — was quickly “promoted” to team manager.

In high school, I fell in with a crowd of crosscountry runners. I happily cheered them from the sidelines.

Years later, at my husband’s urging, I joined a coed softball team — and ended up doing a lot of bench warming and score keeping.

It’s not that I was sedentary in my younger years. Growing up in New Jersey, where residents couldn’t obtain a driver’s license until age 17, we depended on bicycles for transportation, crisscrossing town all day to follow the fun.

We often rode to the community pool, where I loved to swim.

As I grew older, I did aerobics, tai chi and yoga and, with my husband, contra and ballroom dancing.

But a team sport? I simply didn’t possess the required talent, dedication and calm under pressure.

So when a friend suggested two years ago that I join a bunch of women playing “cachibol” in the Mamanet league at the Columbus Jewish Community Center, I had a singular thought.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“It’s very casual,” my friend said.

I let myself be dragged.

Cachibol resembles volleyball with six players and rotating positions. But instead Recently, league leaders invited me to join a team traveling to Jerusalem in February to play in the Crown International Tournament.

of setting and spiking the ball, you catch and pass it.

Hey, I knew this game: It was called “Newcomb” at the summer camps I attended. I didn’t play well that first night, but at least I knew what I was doing. And it felt good to be moving in the middle of the week.

Another plus was meeting the other players — most of them mothers lured by the idea of an activity requiring no innate athletic skill. Some of the women were quite sporty but hadn’t had time to join a team in years.

I had more fun than expected with my new friends — enough to keep returning. I even started improving and becoming more interested in the game.

Open-gym sessions began in Columbus in late 2016, which is when I entered the picture. When we began playing games two months later, I was hooked — not necessarily good but hooked.

The action accelerated in March 2018 with a visit to Columbus from several Israeli Mamanet stars. They worked us hard through a daylong workshop, then beat our top players in a demonstration match. Through it all, though, we recognized how similar we all were. We knew we could play like them; we just had to get more organized.

In June, several women formed an ad-hoc travel team to go to a Mamanet tournament in New Jersey, returning with fire in their bellies.

They developed a management team, working with the community center to strengthen the league.

A summertime expansion effort added teams in Dublin, New Albany and Columbus’ East Side.

In the fall, one of the league co-chairwomen — the friend who originally persuaded me to try the game — sent a text: “Would you consider being a team captain?”

Me? The uncoordinated seventh-grader?

Pushing past my selfdoubt, I agreed.

“Who are you?!” my husband joked when he heard the news.

I’m the captain of Mamafia, a team of spectacular women who drill every week, encouraged by an experienced volleyball coach. She is tough on us, but we’re thrilled that she constantly enhances our skills, turning us into a better team.

Our team practiced all fall and eagerly started official play this month against our friends on five other teams.

“Are you some kind of athlete now?” my daughter asked.

“Oh, good grief, no!” I replied.

Or am I?

Recently, league leaders invited me to join a team traveling to Jerusalem in February to play in the Crown International Tournament.

Columbus Mamanet will compete against teams from around the world, and I’m on the roster.

Is this for real?

“Deal with it, Mom,” my son said. “You are officially an athlete.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.