I’m flat-out on the grass, my chest rising and falling from the labour I’ve just put it through. My partner is on the ground next to me, also panting heavily. We turn our faces towards each other at the same time, waiting for our breathing to stabilise. Our bodies are awash in sweat, our clothes are in disarray and our hair sticks out at odd angles. He gets on his haunches and holds his hand out to me, yanking me upright and into his arms. I smile lasciviously at him... before sticking up my hand and yelling, “Foul!” I send the ball sailing into the back of the net with my free kick, winking and mouthing: “Payback for that tackle at home,” when our teammates aren’t watching.
Playing a sport with your partner has always been sexy. Long before Tashi, Art and Patrick’s racy threesome in Challengers, there was Jess and Joe (or Jess and Jules, depending on which team you bat for) in Bend It Like Beckham (2002) and Viola and Duke in She’s The Man (2006). In tennis (or even badminton, as seen in the iconic ‘Dhal Gaya Din Ho Gayi Sham’), it’s the suggestive, rhythmic grunting as you hit the ball back and forth which implies that seduction is in session. Thwack! (Pin my hands above my head) Thwack! (Lean in closer) Thwack! (Run your finger along the length of my neck). In a contact sport like football, however, every movement is precisely designed to mimic foreplay: perspiring bodies rubbing against each other, jerseys being pulled, tackles leading to takedowns.
I was in college when I discovered that sports were aphrodisiacal to me. My then partner and I played football at university level and spent much of our time together at practice or discussing strategy. During matches, I would often find myself distracted watching my inamorata dribble past the opponents swarming around her. Suddenly, everything would become magnified: calf muscles tightening, hair flying in the wind, that sharp intake of breath before taking a shot at the goal. Afterwards, propelled by endorphins, we would review the game—and each other’s bodies—under the bleachers.
It’s not surprising that taking up a sport together is recommended in couples’ therapy too. “At some point, we forget that we got into a relationship with our partner because it was fun and joyous. When we play together, it recreates that levity in our dynamic,” says Tanya Percy Vasunia. The published researcher and psychologist first excavates the issues in a relationship before proposing how to overcome a slump using sport. “If the problem is monotony, I encourage them to face off against each other to switch things up. On the other hand, if a couple just can’t get on the same page, I suggest playing on the same team.”
Sports can often be an outlet for spite, perhaps grief too. An ex-boyfriend and I recently found ourselves at opposite ends of a ping-pong table for the first time, six years after we broke up. He refused to meet my gaze. Instead, he kept smashing the ball towards my face so that the game would end and he could make his escape. Maybe it dredged up some residual sadness from when we used to schedule table tennis dates in our early twenties.
Muskan Kaur Sukarchakia, who was introduced to rugby by her partner, has a happier tale to tell. “Playing a sport with your partner gives you a chance to show off your skills to them and vice versa, which can be very attractive.” Although the assistant curator and her partner play the same sport competitively, they have never been at loggerheads. “We occupy different positions on the field so it allows us some distance. He takes on a more physical role while I, being slight and fast, play elsewhere and bring a different skill set to the game.” For those prone to over-competitiveness, Vasunia recommends getting to the root of the trigger via self-introspection. “The world is not a light place at the moment anyway, so looking for pockets of intimacy with your partner can make a huge difference.”
As someone who first met her spouse in the sports council room of our college, I can attest to what Vasunia says. Often, our football kits play mediator in an argument because I can’t locate my studs and need his help finding them. When we are cooling down after a match, it fills my heart with joy to see him bask in the glow of a game well played. On our way back home, we always stop for frozen yoghurt or Bournvita and a long chat.
Sadly, our sexy soccer sessions have been interrupted by a recent shoulder surgery he sustained while playing—and this is completely coincidental—tennis. And although this means he’ll have to watch from the sidelines for a while, we’ll meet—and sweat—in the virtual world of Mortal Kombat until he’s cleared to return.
This story appears in Vogue India’s July-August 2024 issue that is now on stands. Subscribe here
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