The crunch of brooms and bones. The roar of the crowd. The occasional cry of an owl. These were the sounds of my first Quidditch World Cup. Held in a forgotten corner of Manhattan, it was an affair that boasted college and community teams, cavorting mascots, wand-waving Harry Potter cosplayers, and those who came to gawk, like me. Who were these people (grown adults!) running around with brooms between their thighs acting out a sport inspired by a childrens’ book series? I went in with a snarky smile, but that transformed into a broad, earnest grin when I saw these athletes in action. Soon, I was swarmed by this quirky sports’ enthusiasts, who stepped me through the rules (like how the brooms are an intended handicap and how the “snitch” is a mischievous player with no team loyalty) and warmly welcomed me into their happy, inclusive community.
There’s something instantly exhilarating about “Muggle quidditch,” mainly because it’s a sport that requires great athleticism and threatens great pain. It’s a cross between rugby and football in some senses, and yet it’s dismissed by many for being some sort of sub-sport, a dorky hobby ripe for ridicule. But to be a believer, all you need is to see quidditch in action. Or so I thought. Unfortunately, the new quidditch documentary Mudbloods does the sport no favors, preaching to the choir instead of offering an accessible portrait of a sport that’s currently fighting for validation along with its players.
Related Topics: Harry Potter