I had an absolute [hand]ball!

Hi, Ria here, with a special Olympic report on handball.  I'll be honest.  Before we applied for tickets many moons ago, I was as familiar with the sport of handball as I am with the concept of choosing to get up early: I know some people do it, but I lack any personal understanding or experience.  But the Olympics is all about embracing the sports we Brits consider obscure, so prior to visiting the Copper Box, I did a bit of homework, skim-read the rules and watched a bit of YouTube handball action.  It looked like a cross between netball, football and boxing, which appealed to my multiple personalities.




The Copper Box (sadly, not constructed entirely of 1p and 2p pieces) was an excellent venue - there were very few empty multicoloured seats and the crowd were the right kind of rowdy.  With the exception of the Norwegians occupying the bulk of one tier along the side and sizeable patches of Swedes, there were a lot of Brits, who I imagine were also feeling the trepidation that comes with spending a significant amount of money on a sport you've never seen before.

We need not have worried, because it was fricking amazing.  Handball is the new BEST THING EVER.  We watched Brazil's women take on Montenegro, followed by a thrilling Scandinavian derby as Norway met Sweden.  For those as unfamiliar with handball as I was pre-Olympics (because I'm obviously an expert now), here's how it works: it's a game of two 30 minute halves, in which the aim is to score as many goals as possible.  Turns out in handball, that's a LOT of goals.  Brazil beat Montenegro 27-25, whilst Norway managed to defeat their local rivals by 24 goals to 21.  Both matches were extremely closely fought, with saves being as celebrated as the goals themselves.  

It was fast-paced, end-to-end stuff, with goals and high-fives galore.  I don't know if it's the same with the men's game, but I've never witnessed sportspeople shoving each other to the ground one minute, then hugging like BFFs the next.  There was no diving, no-one grabbing their right leg like they'd been shot when they'd actually fallen on their left arm, and no arguing with the ref.  It was good, clean, full contact fun.  

As much as I like the fact Britain's an island because I like ferry journeys and the seaside's never all that far away, I feel like this brilliant sport might have made it across the Channel already had it not been full of water.  I checked out the world standings on the International Handball Federation's website; would you like to know who's above us?  EVERYONE, because we don't even rank.  I hope that this sport does start to catch on, because I've got a serious handball crush now.  I'm totally going to put posters up on my wall and write handball's name all over my homework diary.  You should too.

For the nitty gritty of the rules, as well as details on how you can save our nation by getting involved in this epic sport, check out the British Handball website here.