Saw the movie about Texas high school football tonight and it reminded me of all those ballgames when I clutched a clip board tightly (as opposed to allowing the coach to hit me with it, which actually happened a time or two) trying to conjure up tears for the emotional last seconds of a crucial win/loss back in my statistician days. I always felt somewhat guilty about not really feeling the moment the way everyone else seem to feel it. Even then, I thought it was just a game but perhaps because my sweat wasn't involved I was missing something. So I drama-ed it up as best I could.
Several times in the film, older guys tell the young players that these are the best years of their lives. And seeing the closing updates on what each of them are doing now, you get the idea that perhaps those guys were right. God, how sad.
Made me think of my best friend in high school who was an outstanding basketball player. She was brilliant too. In college she was an All-American and later pursued a doctorate and her dream coaching job. Five years ago, she killed herself.
Some people wanted to blame sports. I couldn't. Sports gave her an edge, an advantage, a chance to shine. And what happiness she had in life often came on a court.
All I know is that I don't know. And that what little I do know is that I am profoundly grateful for always suspecting there is more. . . more life to be lived, more joys to be had, more challenges to meet. God, how grateful.