I contend that quilting is a sport and quilters are athletes. Let me explain.
I can still see Kobe Bryant when he was a young basketball player, loping and flying around a court like a young gazelle, bounding over other players heads, bouncing off obstacles and swishing the ball into the net. I can see a young Terry Simon, stumbling up the court, getting turned around at the 50 yard line and bouncing her nose off her own goal post. Oops, wrong sport and I sort of lost my train of thought. Anyway, the same enthusiasm and joy of young Kobe is present in a new quilter. They bound around a quilt store, bouncing off obstacles trying to select the perfect fabric and maybe it even matches. They surge their way thru hand or machine stitching to meet the goal; a finished block and, at end of the game, a finished quilt.
As time goes on, maybe some of the raw enthusiasm fades and the quilter and the basketball player settle into the workmanship of the game, learning to focus on details, coordinating with others and fighting off the effects of gravity and time. We slow down a little bit and, as we get older, maybe we lose some of the crispness in our work. It takes a bit more time to do things, but we are more interested in getting it right than just getting it done.
An athlete goes to the gym to keep in shape. A quilter goes to the fabric store to keep their stash in shape. An athlete has team meetings for inspiration. A quilter has guild meetings. An athlete has the playoffs to fight towards. Many quilters shoot for the big shows. So, see, you can hardly tell the difference.
As with athletes, the degree of expertise is all over the place. Some quilters are like Kobe, born to sew perfectly. They look at a piece of fabric, see what it will make, twitch their hands a couple of times and the quilt is done, perfect and a winner at Paducah. I know some of these types, they know who they are and they know we love them even though they are flawed. Then there are the bulk of players (quilters); the ones who work hard to be good at their craft, making quilts that are beautiful, making quilts that are useful, making family traditions. These are the players who keep the team together, keep the game moving forward, the ones whose names aren’t remembered by the rest of the world and, I propose, the soul of the sport. Then, there are a few of us who make pointless quilts. I don’t mean quilts that have no purpose, I mean quilts whose points don’t necessarily point. Anyway, the quilt is still beautiful and we are still members of the team.
Someday, I hope to see my husband and his friends, sitting on a couch, beer and popcorn in hand, cheering on the WFQG team in the World Series of Quilting. There will be jumping and hollering, high-fiving and chest bumping when we win.
See you at the meeting.