“After losing my sight, I wanted to find a sport that involved a ball, and I discovered Torball,” says Sébastien, a former soccer player. He is the captain of the Nice Torball team and commands respect. His story is one to be taken as an example: a former French national handisport fencing champion, a loyal OGC Nice fan, president of an association, and a life enriched by a love found on a Torball field. He seldom talks about all this. It’s the others who tell his story. On the court, 16 meters long and 7 meters wide, he hustles and advises. In complete darkness, he manages to know, within a few centimeters, exactly where the ball has gone. It’s astounding. His teammates listen to him. There’s Fabrice, Pascal, Philippe, Paul, Mickaël, Yann, and Karolina the coach. She coordinates this joyful team that has mastered the perfect mix of seriousness and pleasure of the game. Torball is a sport where everyone defends and everyone attacks. It’s a sport where one is nothing without the other. Movements must be coordinated among the three defenders to block the ball with their bodies. Sébastien emphasizes the physical aspect: “Torball is played in two five-minute halves. It might sound funny. But when you’re in the game, with the concentration, seeking references, if you do what’s necessary, you’re cooked after 10 minutes.” In official competition, players go through four matches…
It’s also a sport that is unique in that it’s open to those with no visual disabilities. One only needs to wear, like their teammates, opaque glasses. Yann, who is sighted, shares: “Fabrice kept talking about Torball. He explained the rules. I listened. He insisted. I didn’t understand. So I decided to try.” And he was hooked.
Since then, he hasn’t missed a training session. He practices, trying to be up to the mark. His throws are effective. The defense is still largely improvable. He explains, “It’s very hard to stay focused. You see nothing. You only orient yourself with the sound and after a while, you lose your bearings.” Yann is still hesitant about competing in Torball: “For now, I enjoy training and that’s what matters. If I could really add something to the team, then why not move on to competition.” To be seen.
The Nice team is two points away from moving up to the second division. The end of the season is nearing. The players are highly motivated for this challenge.
Testimonials:
Vincent Trinquat: “Stéphanie Coiffier, the communication officer at the ANICES association, had explained to me at length what Torball is, with documents to back it up. Subtly, she told me about middle school students who had tried it and were amazed by the sport. At the end of the discussion, she invited me to take up the challenge. Nothing scares Nice-Premium. I accepted.
Tuesday evening, I sit by the field and watch. I see Sébastien, Pascal, Fabrice, Yann, and Philippe taking turns throwing and diving. An hour of 10, 20… 100 dives. I suddenly realize that Torball is far from a game of cards! I reassure myself with the throws, which don’t seem much different from bowling.
My turn comes. I put on the glasses. With difficulty, I make it to the mat. Diving is even harder! It makes a meal out of a journalist… It takes an eternity to move from a crouching position to lying down. You hear the ball start. You position yourself on the mat while focusing to ensure your body properly occupies the space. Then you wait for the ball to hit you. You ask yourself 10,000 questions: ‘Where? How hard? Am I positioned correctly? Is my face well protected?’ The ball hits you. You’re saved! Your body has successfully served as a barrier. The famous 10,000 questions help you forget that you can’t see. Concentration becomes a shield against visual impairment.
The throw, which I assumed was simple, turns out to be very complicated. Standing up, moving forward, and you lose your bearings… When the ball leaves your hands, it very rarely reaches its target. Except for the expert players far beyond my level!”
Célie Gourdon: “They can’t see anything, so why do they wear a mask? Because the game is open to the blind, the visually impaired, and the sighted. Because behind the mask, it’s complete darkness for everyone. The players hand me a mask as an invitation. They open the doors to the night as if opening the door to their home. With warmth.
The world seems bigger. Black, but more expansive. It seems like the sounds are coming from further away, that the field is longer. Those who usually need guidance to walk, guide me by the sound of their voices. It’s me who is lost. ‘Can you hear me? Are you ready? Watch out, I’m throwing the ball to you. You need to send it back to me, gently, more to the right.’
I focus on every little sound, these sounds of life that I need to seek, wait, and listen to like I’ve never listened before. And very quickly the mind seeks other landmarks. Landmarks, quickly, in this world where I no longer know anything. And when the mask slides off the eyes, again, we are surprised. Surprised to see where we are, what we’ve done. The perception of a place changes completely, with or without light.”
