The View From the Stands, Part One

I'm not a big sports person. I don't have anything against sports, it's just not my thing. Crowds are also not my thing. So if you put the two together, attending a sporting event should not be near the top of my "To Do" list.

I have, however, attended plenty of sporting events through the years: softball games, track meets, basketball games, soccer matches, field hockey games, cross country meets, tennis matches and even parts of football games. I've always enjoyed them.

Today I watched a football game from start to finish for, I think, the first time in my life. I had a good time.  It's exciting to see "my" team get closer to the goal, but I don't get the game at all (Well, I do get that if you score a touchdown, that's a good thing. I'm not a complete idiot).

There's a lot I don't get. I don't get "Downs". I don't get the penalties (or most of them anyway). I don't get what they're doing with that rope thing with the poles at either end (looks like some rudimentary type of surveying, and I think it might be related to the "downs", but I'm not quite sure). I don't get why someone is flipping over big numbers on the sides. I don't get why they'll stop the clock sometimes and not other times.

And speaking of "don'ts", I don't want to listen to someone trying to explain these things to me.

Even though I don't get a lot of it, it doesn't mean I didn't enjoy being there today.

Part of the fun is trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Numbers are resetting on the big board and I'm reading the sponsors, wondering how those specific sponsors got involved. Were they asked or did they volunteer? And if they were asked, why weren't others asked as well?

Players are switching off but I'm watching some of the other players drinking from a bucket. They're drinking from a long hose. Is it water or Gatoraid?

Whistles are blowing and players are running back and forth while I'm looking at the letters on the refs' backs trying to figure out what they mean.There's an R and a U and an L, but I can't make out the other one.

Next to the watching the marching band, the real fun is watching and listening to the people around me.

To my lower left, there's a bored little grandson playing with his grandfather's face and you can see the love they have for each other in their interaction.

Further in front of me is a young teenage man with special needs who is quite affectionate to someone who appears to be his older brother, and his brother is very giving as well. Often, his older brother has his arm around this young man and this young man frequently rests his head on his brother's shoulder. It's very touching. Later, this same young man is dancing a jig as the marching band is playing accordingly. He's quite good and several people around him applaud in appreciation.

I listen to the men behind me and it's obvious that there are a few players on our team who are idiots when we are losing, but decent players when we're ahead (one favorite expression: "What the hell was that?").

I listen to the band parents expressing pride for their children and the other children as well. I watch as they crane their necks to find their kids in the stand while the game is going on.

As the day winds towards an end, my butt is killing me on the aluminum benches. It's getting colder as the sun is going down and that damn clock keeps stopping with more frequency as it gets closer to the end.

But I stay. I stay for the the same reason I came in the first place; the same reason I've attended every sporting event. Someone I love is involved, in this case my older son.

I was here to share in that experience and to watch with pride and admiration.

And, as usual, it was great.

P.S. We won

I Stand Corrected

I have just been informed by my know-it-all daughter that I have used the wrong "to" in the post below (Should have been "too", not "to".)
Sure, I could go back and correct it, but I prefer to let it stand as a constant reminder of the nature of our relationship.

Want Fries With That?

Went to a job site in Boston today and got pretty hungry on my way back. Decided to swing by McDonald's and got a "Snack Wrap" (most meat per $$$ ratio). Had to pull forward and wait for it. Finally, the most unmotivated girl in the world sauntered over and (barely) handed me the bag. I'm' not to sure why it took so long to make the thing but I'm hoping it had nothing to do with the hickeys all over her neck.

P.S. As I was eating it and got toward the bottom, it had THE LONGEST hair in it I have ever seen. Now I'm more worried than ever.

Come Closer So I Can Thank You

Someone I will never know saved my life today.

There I was, careening towards Main Street at speeds approaching 30 miles per hour when all of a sudden a lady comes out of a side street, runs the stop sign and cuts in front of me. At first I was pissed but as we slowed to a more reasonable 15 miles per hour, I realized she was trying to save my life. She was slowing me down just like in the movie when Spider-Man jumps in front of the train!

How lucky I am, I thought, to have this protector in front of me as I drive to the grocery store. Here she is, not knowing me from any other citizen, yet she chose to protect me from the dangers of driving through town. Who else would break at every fire hydrant and newspaper machine we passed? No telling when one of those might fall into the road!

And look! There's a crosswalk. Sure, there doesn't APPEAR to be anyone anywhere near it. But you never know. Maybe that guy four blocks away will start sprinting and cross before we can stop. That's two lives saved, counting his.

Sure, she knows reckless punks like me might get impatient driving behind her, but she's willing to take the heat.

A true unsung hero and I may never know who she is.

Notes from the Past, Part One

The Scene: A small house on a dead-end street on a warm Saturday in August. It’s early afternoon. The air is warm outside, but cooler in the house. The home is quiet except for the occasional sounds that drift in from outside; sounds of distant traffic and the occasional chirping of birds.

My three small children are upstairs taking naps after a morning of cartoons and running errands to the Post Office, Outlet Store and “the Ducky Place”. I’ve given them lunch and I’m waiting while they rest, waiting for them to wake up.

I stand in the quiet of the living room in front of a large divided window, staring out past the old front porch to the postage stamp yard beyond. The sun is filtering through the leaves of the old maple tree making kaleidoscope patterns on the ground as an imperceptible breeze brushes by. Below the branches, two small swings drift lazily over patches of ground worn bare by little feet.

I can almost hear the laughter of little kids as I watch the swings tilt back and forth.

Standing there, I’m thinking about what a perfect moment in time this is, my kids safe upstairs: resting, well fed, and getting ready for the typical Saturday afternoon to come.

And as I’m taking all of this in I am suddenly seeing this as an old man, standing at this same window, in this same moment. It throws me. There is a strange mix of past, present and future, all happening at once. And I am looking back on this moment as if it was a distant memory. All of the sounds including the laughter are only echos of the past; echos of a time long ago. I linger as I wonder how it all went by so quickly...

Slowly, beds begin to creak above me, scampering feet come down the stairs, and then I’m back again...but I feel the distance that is approaching.

I’m left with thoughts of  an old man and feeling the threat of time, heavier with each approaching day. I’m left with the whispering that I’ve heard so many times since: “Enjoy this moment. It will never come again”.

Where's My Club?

I asked a "Yes" or "No" question about 15 minutes ago and I'm still getting the answer. It has turned into a cross between a story and a one person conversation with themselves. I can get up and leave the room and when I come back, it's still going.
To be fair, the answer has really been more like five minutes long, it's just that it's been repeated three times.
But the really painful part is that each time it's repeated, it's repeated slower and with more pauses. With each pause I think: "It's almost over"...and then it starts up again.
It's like a wounded animal that won't quite die. Every time you think it's gone, the body lets go with another spasm and you don't know whether to stand there and watch it twitch, or put it out of it's misery.

When Do I Start?

Lets say you walk into a job interview and the person conducting the interview stinks of Jack Daniel's and stares at the ceiling tiles the whole time.  How should this be taken? What message does this send?
I ask because I have to conduct an interview tomorrow.