My acceptance speech after winning a keyring at Luxembourg’s Schueberfouer

I inserted the first token, pressed the button and imagined Michael Jordan was inside me. In spirit.

The road is long, with many a winding turn, that lead us to who knows where. Well we all know where it led me: a sprained ankle at the summer work social. 

I know, I know, I should have said no when Dirk suggested we play volleyball using Elodie’s twins as the balls. I never win anything, why did I think I’d be good at human volley ball? The howling and tears were not my finest moment. But after six weeks with a physio (he’s a lying, cheating shit!), some YouTube tutorials, and one of those weird ankle strengthener boards that dude advertises on Facebook, I regained my ankle stability. 

I applied ice every day to the affected area, if by affected area you mean my entire body, and by ice you mean Aperol Spritz.

The last few weeks when it was deathly dull at work, I pursued a daily practice of throwing balls of paper into a trash can placed on a shelf in the kitchen. 

I got good. Very good. So good that Leonardo, the trainee, got lumbago from picking up all the balls of paper from the floor. 

And then there’s my diet: protein shakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner and for snacks: hummus and carrot sticks. Honestly, I’ve never had better bowel movements or more orange skin!

Payday

I had to shove a few sheep out of the way to get into the Schueberfouer on its opening day which helped warm up my arms and shoulder blades for the big test. I was the first person to reach the Basketball Game with its flashing lights, and shelves of giant stuffed penises, so soft you want to stroke your face with them, dust-covered radio controlled toys and my goal: row upon row of keyrings sparkling in the August sunlight.

I selected 8 games for €10 because working on reception doesn’t pay as much as you might think. I inserted the first token, pressed the button and imagined Michael Jordan was inside me. In spirit.

I was carried away by the sense of flow as the balls flew from my fingers into the hoop. The number gauge ticked away like a clock: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Oops! A missed hoop. Then, 6 and 7. And so it continued. I no longer saw the world outside of my hands, the balls and the hoops. I was in the zone through games 2-7, so driven was I to win. By the eighth game pain radiated from my ankle like light from a lighthouse, dramatically impairing my aim and hoop average. Would it be enough to claim my prize? When the fairground stallholder told me it would, I leapt with joy, and squealed with pain–clearly I wouldn’t be playing basketball again for a while.

My eternal gratitude

I admired my prize: a top-of-the-range laser pointer keyring, as I was wheeled away from the loud music and flashing lights of the funfair to the tram stop. And I contemplated how useful it will be to wind up my cat, Leonardo and Elodie’s twins, all of which I would like to thank for helping me reach these lofty heights of achievement. I’d like to thank my parents for being so inept at raising me that I felt compelled to move abroad and spend my hard-earned cash at the Schueberfouer, all in the name of external validation. 

I’d also like to thank my manager, who was on holiday the entire month of August, enabling me to train hard for this discipline at work. 

Finally, I’d like to thank the Schueberfouer gods for bestowing this external validation upon me, Chloe, from reception.

Back to the reason for my writing this email. The doctor told me to rest my ankle a few more days so I won’t be in the office on Monday. Thanks for your understanding. 😊