In my early teens I could manage quite passable volley ball serves. This may surprise you. As it still does me.
I was bad at PE, at most sport, and had very poor ball game skills. But I was able to give that volley ball quite a whack and send it where it was useful. I couldn’t then play the game. At all. But if they were awake, my team mates should be able to make some sensible volley ball moves from those serves.
It was the usual set-up, so when the teams were picked, I was chosen last. It was fine. I knew that was going to happen. But for some reason, I always ended up in the the less pleasant team. I remember this because those serves were quite good. But no one was pleased, nor did they ever say ‘well done.’
No, that task befell the opposing team. After enough powerful serves from me, which were not in their best interests, they called out ‘well done!’ Meaning it the nice way, not sarcastically, or anything. And after all these years, when I think of these girls, it’s the way they behaved in PE that comes back to me.
Although I am sure that my team mates grew up to be kind and pleasant people. Too.
The reason for this ancient sports report is that history repeats itself. Some people who should have shown pride over and been pleased about something, at least to the degree that they could have uttered some polite, if not heartfelt, praise for someone being successful at something. But they didn’t.
The people who showed pleasure were almost perfect strangers at the bus stop. They positively beamed with happiness on hearing the good news.
It’s not my story to tell, which is why I’m being cryptic. But it’s more of a disgrace than my volley ball team forgetting their manners. Or their kindness.