Vera Verto
As I depart
from the world of dreams, I come to my senses and think, Today is the day. I have been looking forward to this day forever! I
kick off the covers of my warm sheets and thank God for the wonderful
opportunity I will have to fulfill a life-long dream. Up the stairs I run and I
take a quick glance out the window. What do I see? Not popcorn popping on the apricot tree. I laughed to myself. A
beautiful summer day with the blue birds chirping, the sky clear and the sun
shining is the perfect weather to fulfill ones wildest dreams.
My mom
turns in her leather-backed rolly chair in her plush purple robe to face me.
“Are you excited for your first day?”
“I am too
pumped!” I replied, “This is going to be the most fun I’ve had in years!”
She smiled as I ran out the door.
My friend
comes bounding out of his house, broom in hand, as I come careening around the
corner in my beat up Honda Accord. As he jumps in the car he yells “Off to first-year
training!”
Jamming to some good old T-Swift on
our way up to Provo, my nerves start to kick in like an unbreakable horse. Maybe this isn’t the best idea. Everyone
will think we are weird. Josh and I are already two pretty weird kids…maybe
I’ll just stay in the car. As we pull up to the field, I really start to
question what I was doing there. My palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are
heavy and I consider the consequences. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I
ask Josh.
“We die.” Said with the straightest
face so that I knew he was joking and out of the car we got. We drag our way
over to the field where there is a bunch of other players stretching and doing
little exercises. Fortunately, the captain of the team was super nice and she
called us all together to start explaining the basics of this wonderful sport.
As she explained it, I pictured Madame Hooch there speaking to us and I started
to get a little more confident, even though I still felt awkward about being
there.
“Everyone step up to the left side
of their broomstick. Stick your right hand over the broom and say, up!” she
instructs us.
“Up!” we
all yell in unison. Sadly, none of the brooms came flying into our hands as
they did in the movies, but that helped ease the tension and we, myself
included, starting feeling a bit better about themselves. We started playing
and it was a very joyful experience to have the wind rush through your hair as
you run down the field. My body hurts in a good way as it was hit by a bludger
for the first time and afterwards in the car, feeling less nervous than I was
before, I thought to myself,
That was the
best thing ever!
 |
| Yeah, we are the coolest! |
During the next few weeks I go to school and as a freshman
in college I feel pretty nervous because I want to fit in, but I'm just off my
mission and we all know that makes people pretty weird for the first few
months. That, plus the fact that I am playing Quidditch of all things, makes me
feel a little self-conscious. Down into the deep dark spaces of the Joseph F.
Smith Building to reach my class of Italian. I creak open the door and try to
sit down without anyone noticing I was there.
“Hey, McKay,” says a friend, “What
have you been up to lately?” I groan inwardly. Hesitantly I mumble, “Oh,
I’ve…uh…started playing…umm…quidditch.”
“Quidditch?
That is—“ I brace the for insult. “awesome! How do you play?”
I
hesitate. What? He actually thought it was cool?
After a few minutes of having
discussed the main points the sport, I start to feel more comfortable. Maybe
it is pretty cool after all! I invite him to come play with us the next
time we practice.
“Sure!” he exclaims, “That sounds
like a lot of fun!” and he gets up to leave. “See you later!”
The next month was packed with
different Quidditch tournaments to which we went. There was a tournament in
Salt Lake for which we prepared ourselves. As a team, we had started to grow
really close; so close, in fact, that we would go watch movies and hang out
with each other outside of Quidditch practice. We were becoming a family! That
was something that I really liked. Being quite self-conscious about playing
Quidditch, it helped a lot to see these wonderful people helping me along the
way and grow more confident in who I am.
We did really well at the Salt Lake Tournament, which was
our first official tournament together and as an official Provo Club. We did
win a few games and one of them was won thanks to me. They are very physical
and Quidditch is not a weak person sport. It is full contact and takes a lot of
energy. Seeing how intense this sport is and feeling the same emotions as I do
when I play other sports like basketball, I started to think that Quidditch was
truly something of which to be proud.
The tournaments following were really fun as well. We
continued to bond as a family and team and we got to know each other really
well and care for each other. One day at work, I was sitting at my desk and an
a co-worker asked, “So are you doing anything fun this weekend?”
“Why yes,” I confidently replied, “Yes I am! I am going to
Boise, Idaho to play in a Quidditch tournament.”
My co-worker paused. “Did I hear you right? Did you say
Quidditch? That is so cool! I didn’t even know that was a thing that people
played! How do you play? What’s the Snitch? Do you actually fly?”
I chuckled to myself. A lot people have asked me those exact
questions. “No, we don’t actually fly,” I said with a wink, “but it is very
fun!” and I explained to her a few of the main rules and points of the game.
“Can I come and play?” She wanted to know.
“Of course you can! Come on Saturday and we will teach you!
It will be a lot of fun!”
Quidditch is a great sport. Even though, at times, it can
seem like a ridiculous thing, it is very fun. It is a bit nerdy because it is
based off the Harry Potter series and we have PVC pipes in between our legs
while we play, which are the brooms, but all in all it is the best thing ever.
At first, I was very self-conscious about that fact that I played it, but as
time went on, I had happen to me what Professor McGonagall says to her
Transfiguration class in Harry’s second year, a “Vera verto.”
