I have a striped shirt that I put on at least once a week. I now officiate recreation league basketball games. Nine-to-fifteen-years-old children and youth heed every word when I blow on my Fox 40 whistle. Ah, such power. This past week I officiated a 9-12-year-olds girls’ basketball game. I have always loved girls’ basketball – particularly the UCONN Huskies. I like the female game because it plays itself out below the rim. Plays are set and run – no dunk, dunk and more dunks; few one-on-one isolations. There is also a spirit of “team” that is often absent in the men’s game. This past Saturday a little girl came to the sideline to take a throw in for her team. Her demeanor was so refreshing and delightful that I share this free flowing prose with you as a hymn of praise to the essence of sport.
No Dancing Matter?
She danced and whirled toward me smiling attired in her gold uniform of battle!
Did she not know that this was serious business?
The parents knew the gravity of the matter.
Those volunteer teacher- tacticians – so they thought - pacing the sideline knew the magnitude of the moment.
Did she not know the propriety expected of her?
She was entranced with the thoughts of some delightful deity who cared little for the physical dexterity expected of her, let along what the score happened to be!
She was experiencing joy as she came to collect the tan, leather sphere that rested in my open palm!
Did she not realize that the numerical differential was not in her favor?
This was the simplest of arithmetical activities to understand.
She was oblivious to winning and losing and its dreadful consequences……..
As some thought.
She giggled, she laughed as she hurled the sphere in the direction of someone else adorned in matching attire to hers!
And then with a spin and a laugh she danced back onto the field of battle.
She was wrapped in the celestial glow of playing a child’s game; others were wrapped in the thrall of lost innocence that believed that the number of times that pre-pubescent females hurled a circular object threw a steel and string cylinder really mattered.
When the contest was completed few who competed cared little about the numerical differential brightly illumined from above for all the world to see.
They embraced and danced and laughed while those who encircled the venue of battle pondered the consequences of what had happened.
Fluidity of the spirit vs. brittleness of the soul. The eternal contest.
The losers were obvious to all who would see with innocent eyes.
1 comment:
Agreed
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