Another Rise and Fall in Sports

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Image from Indystar: https://www.indystar.com/story/sports/nfl/colts/2019/08/24/reaction-report-colts-quarterback-andrew-luck-retiring/2111744001/. (no copyright infringement is intended).

I was at a friend's new house chatting over dinner when I received the familiar buzz which signified a message from my brother. He and I exchange messages every so often throughout the day, and I always pay attention when I get a message from him, despite the fact, that we usually talk about sports or the community.

"What the heck! Andrew Luck retired."

I was shocked, and showed the message to the only other friend at dinner who would have understood. He expressed a similar dumbfounded response. The party, overwrought with curiosity, nagged me to show them what we were talking about, but I knew the message itself would require explanation since the rest of the party were not interested in sports.

I preceded as best as I could to explain the shocking nature of the situation. "One of the best professional football players just retired... He cited mental fatigue as a reason, etc. etc."

It was difficult to capture the gravitas surrounding this announcement. Luck just finished taking the Indianapolis Colts deeper into the playoffs than practically anybody expected. This year's Colts have great expectations, being full of good young players having now seasoned their talent with experience, and a hunger to return to the postseason.

The physical picture of the press conference was jarring: he stood alone in a plain Colts t-shirt. He smiled awkwardly, and opened the press conference with a meek, "Hellooo."  Luck admitted that he didn't dream of this scenario, and he even almost lost composure at one point. After taking a minute, he rediscovered his nerve, and proceeded to express gratitude.

Here was a young man who has made a pivotal decision about his life, about how he wanted to live. One might say that he was turning his back on the one thing that has arguably defined him for a good majority of his life. His decision even affected a house party all the way in White Rock, Canada.

The awkwardness felt familiar; it appeared to come from a deep sense of isolation; he stood alone, with no one to support him. He was perhaps aware, that no matter how he tried to explain it, few people would lament with him; few people would actually understand. And fewer people would actually empathize with him.

"Mental fatigue? But he's so young.... Injuries? That's part of sports."

Even before the press conference as rumors swirled that he had made this decision, fans booed him as he jogged off the field or the last time.

He said he heard it, and it hurt. And I couldn't help but sympathize with him.

Andrew Luck made a decision that was best for his health, his life and his family. And while it may come off as extremely selfish, I believe him when he said that it was the hardest decision of his life.

He's walking away because the joy is gone. And that's not a millenial thing. It's a confrontation with mortality: can he really give more of his life to  a game than he can to his family.  Does he really want to spend the end of his career in chronic physical pain, barely able to enjoy any physical activity with his children?

For Andrew Luck, the answer is no. And while it was shocking to hear, and while I will certainly miss seeing him play, I can't help but think that it was the right answer, and it is the right decision.

Perhaps it's a sign of my age that I think I genuinely sympathize with this young man. As fans, we go through a myriad of emotions with our athletic heroes. It's what makes sports to be what it is.

And while I may have never directly supported Andrew Luck or the Colts, while I may have never shared in their joy of even last season, I certainly now share both in Andrew Luck's sorrow, and his greater desire for peace.

Apex of A Week

I have been surrounded by nurses my whole life; my mother, my aunts, my cousins, and even my best friends have endeavored into the noble profession. Something I've learned about nurses is that nurses, like teachers and priests, cannot dissociate their profession from their every day life: they are typically compassionate with everyone, attentive to detail, uniquely humorous, and amazingly thoughtful whether they're on the job, or hanging out with friends.

Earlier this week, I wanted to make a joke about how nurses got a week to celebrate honor their, work and yet mothers only get a day. And while I was attempting to point at a subtle irony, upon further reflection, a celebration of motherhood is really, a fitting apex of a week celebrating nurses. After all, mothers are the first nurses. They are the first to answer our cries for help, to guide us in times of sorrow, to prop us up for our first and most important steps; they often console us when we have to confront difficult truths; bring us water when we suffer from insatiable thirst; provide comfort when we are in pain. Indeed, not all nurses are mothers, but I have a difficult time conceiving of how all mothers aren't in some way nurses.

In the end, it does make sense that Mother's Day completes the Nurses week, but for the sake of gift-giving, nobody mention it to my own mother, lest she believe she should get gifts for both.

Ashes

One day, we, too will be nothing more than ashes. 

So long.

I'll keep you in my prayers forever

Dies Cinerum

 

Back at the Abbey, one of the many tasks the seminarians performed was managing the wealth of rose gardens on the Abbey property. While this task was typically assigned during work afternoons, it was not uncommon to see two priests work on the roses in their spare time. They would often be found watering, pruning, distributing fertilizer among a myriad of other tasks. 

Despite the difficult work, and the work was often performed under the hot California sun, the priests were always joyful to do it. Now it may be because the work was a pleasant distraction from the many other sources of stress or irritation, but I concede that they loved the work because they loved the roses; they loved the joy the roses brought others; they loved the scent, the beauty, and colour: working on the rose garden had a definite and wonderful outcome.

Now working (and suffering) with joy should not be a foreign concept to us Catholics. Work, by nature, is not pleasant, but it is not incompatible with joy. In fact, we seminarians used to joke that another priest only found joy in work. I wish to dispel, however, at least for the moment, that the labour of Lent must be deprived of all joy.  Fasting, prayer and almsgiving may be difficult works of mercy, but they do not mean that we must drag our feet to do it.

Fasting, prayer and alsmgiving are Lenten works; we fast, or prune away, those unnecessary things, those things that drag us away from the good to which we ought to strive. Prayer nourishes our soul, and we give alms, from our own treasury, for the good of others.

Yes these works are difficult: fasting from our favourite delights can be trying; finding time for prayer can be trying, especially when we come to the end of the day and we've already forgotten; almsgiving, when we would rather save for something we want, or even spend for something we want, can be difficult. 

But when we put those things together, the garden of our soul can be prepared well, beautiful and aromatic for our Lord. And that should be enough, maybe just for a moment, for us to be joyful in our work for Him who we love.

Happy Lent Everyone!

Gold Members

It only takes a few moments on Facebook and Instagram to realize a common theme on my thread: my friends have been blessed to experience the world in such beautiful ways. Whether it be sharing some of the earliest and most precious moments of a new born child's life, or the myriad of extraordinary summits of life conquered with no little difficulty, my friends seem to lead very blessed lives, thanks be to God.

Among those aforementioned blessings are no small number of travel experiences: there seems to be no end of vacation videos and photos from some of the most beautiful places (and food) in the world. This past weekend, I was able to go on my own little experience, albeit, in a very simple way: a group of very good friends traveled to the Sunshine Coast to share a weekend together.

It may not have been the most extravagant of vacations: friends took turns preparing meals for one another; the Sunshine Coast is only a few hours away from where everyone lives; there was no fantastically extraordinary program or activity.

And yet, what was lacking in physical extravagance was made up for genuine enjoyment. There was no shortage of laughs, often at each other's expense; there were board games, card games, and even an old Xbox 360; there was great music, singing, and dancing; there was even a wall of envelopes which facilitated an opportunity for each friend to write notes to one another (...although I...kinda... chose... not to participate).

Some things are good in of themselves. This particular group of friends combines a healthy sense of love for Christ, swagger, affection, bullying, laughter, levity, introspection and fun.

It takes a lot for a person to take oneself seriously enough to strive for holiness, and lightly enough to laugh at their own faults. It takes a lot to laugh out loud in one second, and reflect about insecurity and sin in the next. It takes a lot to welcome someone new to a tightly-knit group of childhood friends. And it takes a lot to enjoy something so simple, with extraordinary joy and love.

If you don't believe me...bet.

Why I Despise...

I had the great joy of being with some good friends watching playoff football these last couple of weeks and I have to say that it seems more fun when someone is invested emotionally in the games. It does not take long to see their prejudice emerge: from sympathizing with beneficial faulty officiating, to reprimanding the opposition for celebrating too early, the pendulum of emotion swings even more wildly with those who rise and fall with their respective teams.

And although I have my own sports preferences, I was even accused, by those who I was watching with, of being a "hater." I would be remiss if I said that this title does not apply to me at least on some level but that does not prevent his comment from being misdirected. Contrary to expectation, I do not hate the New England Patriots.  Yes, they beat my Seahawks in the Super Bowl, but that  instance was as much Seattle losing it as it does the Patriots winning it.

Being a fan, or a hater as my interlocutor pointed out, has very little to do with reason. I should like the Patriots: they are a well run organization dedicated to winning; they do not reward selfishness, and they very rarely glorify themselves above reasonable expectation. On the most part, their players stay out of trouble, and no one can accuse anyone in New England of  'doing it for the money.' And yet, while I do suffer from Patriots fatigue, I do not hate them. They're admirable, but on the most part, I'm actually apathetic to them. I do not have any problem with someone arguing that Brady and Belichick are the greatest of all time. 9 Super Bowls in 18 years is pretty self-explanatory.

Now this apathy cannot be applied to other teams, which again I admit, goes against the habitual use of reason. Now some of the teams who I hate are self explanatory: eg: the Toronto Maple Leafs. As a true Vancouverite, it is against my nature to root for the Leafs in any shape or fashion.

Sometimes, my disdain comes from the narrative of false obligation: just because the Raptors are the only team located in Canada does not mean I should root for them. Ask anyone in Alabama if they start rooting for their in-state rivals in any other competition. No. Of course not. Fans of the Auburn Tigers do not root for the Crimson Tide just because they are from the same state. Please don't ask me to root for the Raptors; they are not Canada's team. They are merely, a team in Canada.

With that being said, here is a list of teams I despise, and for reasons either pretty funny, or entirely emotional

Why I Despise the...

This one easily proves my point. First, in a division full of times which I am either apathetic (Denver Broncos), root for on a remote to semi-remote level (Oakland Raiders), to full on follow (LA Chargers), the Chiefs are easily one of my more despised teams. But the real reason is more funny than that. When I was a kid, I collected basketball, hockey, and of course, football cards. Typically, I was rewarded with a few packs here and there when I did well enough in school, or when I could find enough spare change lying around in couch cushions or birthday money. 

One day, however, my father bought me a box, which consisted of several packs of cards (probably 16 at the very least). Suffice to say, I was elated at my new found treasure. Unfortunately for me, in the first 5 packs of cards I received, I collected 7-Christian Okoye cards. Not one. Not two. But seven! I was easily bored of his picture and resented his bright red Kansas City Chiefs uniform. From then on, I despised the Chiefs. From picking up Joe Montana, to Dante Hall and the current edition of high flying Chiefs, I find it nearly impossible to root for them.

Believe it or not, this comes from a root of respect and admiration. When I was a kid, I loved watching the Chicago Bulls (yeah, I'm that old. No regrets) and though I rooted for the Bulls over the Lakers, I did not hate the Lakers, even after Magic hastened my childhood after encouraging me to have "safe sex." No, the reason I hate the Lakers is because of Kobe Bryant. Now I do not subscribe to my disdain of him because he's cocky; if that were the rationale behind rooting for or against professional athlete, the rooting list would be very slim. No, the reason I resent Kobe is because he had the audacity of claiming to be Jordan's heir apparent. He also was the reason the Lakers jettisoned one of my favourite players: Eddie Jones. He also thought he was somehow more important than Shaquille O'Neal, or that Pau Gasol wasn't extremely important to his championship aspirations. I hate the Lakers, and will never root for them now, if only because I would never give my beloved friends who are Lakers fans, the satisfaction of joining their little cult. No. Never.

Super Bowl Guide for the Uninitiated

After watching the Royal Rumble with some friends (and not having followed wrestling in nearly 20 years), I can lament for those who attend Super Bowl parties and have either no interest, or no knowledge of the actual game. For their sake, traveling in packs is not a bad idea. Based on my experience with the Rumble, however, enjoying the game with those emotionally invested can be a lot more fun than simply being there and doing something else while everyone else watches. Being with fans enables one to rise and fall with the team's victories and failures. Trust me: it's a lot more fun giving a high five if you know why you're giving that high five.

While I do not plan to write the numerous rules of the game, or even each individual player on each team, I will submit a few things that can help casual viewers for their experience:

1. The game is between the New England Patriots and the Los Angeles Rams. If you are going to a party, fans will typically fall into one of two categories: they will either love the Patriots...or they will hate the Patriots. It is very typical that more intense football fans will fall into either category with the same intensity. The Rams are a kind of hybrid new team in the sense that they are a franchise that has moved around a lot in its history. It is not, therefore, common to find many hardcore Rams fans. Most fans cheering for the Rams, I suppose, will be more interested in seeing the Patriots lose than they will seeing the Rams win. Why? 

1a. Because the Patriots enjoy an unparalleled success in the NFL spanning almost two decades. The Patriots won their first of five Super Bowls in 2002. They were lead by the same quarterback, Tom Brady, and the same head coach, Bill Belichick. It is not difficult to dislike the latter because despite his genius, he is perceived as grumpy, mean, sharp with his criticism, and a little bit of a weirdo.

The Rams, on the other hand, are lead by a head coach who is actually younger than the Patriots starting quarterback by nearly 8 years (Quarterback by the way, is by far the most important player on the field because he touches the ball the most). Sean McVay was only 16 when the Pariots started their run. McVay is the youngest head coach in NFL history, and is only a few weeks younger than my younger brother. My younger brother is a priest, so no matter what McVay does, Father wins.

2.  Those strange numbers you keep seeing on the screen that isn't the score is what's called down and distance. Long story short, the team on offense has 4 attempts (or downs) to gain 10 yards. Those strange numbers are a guide to what is required of the offense at any given time. "2nd and 5" for example, means 2nd down (or second attempt of four), and 5 yards to go. The 5 yards to go in this scenario means, if the offense gains 5 or more yards, they get a fresh set of attempts, reverting back to "1st and 10."

3. A (yellow) flag means a penalty which may or may not alter the play depending on who committed the penalty. The rules are pretty complex, but what you need to know is that there is a certain excitement and relief about flags, especially if you have reason to believe that the offending party is the opposition. 

A red flag means a coach has challenged the referees decision on the field. The game will be stopped, and the referee will confer with video replay to make a decision. A red flag is also the sign of a sales event...apparently.

4. Yes. The commercial breaks will give you ample time to stock up on snacks and drinks. And yes, they are also annoying to more hardcore fans, especially when CTV or whatever decides to cut out American commercials. If the game feels long, it's because Corporate America has bills to pay, men need to feel more justified, and women feel less insecure with help of products that have no bearing on either.

5. The halftime show is headlined by Maroon 5, Big Boi (from Outkast) and some other guy I don't know. I've never really cared about the halftime show, but there you are.

6. If you hear people talking about a goat, they're talking about whether or not Tom Brady is considered the "Greatest Of All Time." That, or you're watching on a farm, and you better wish they (the goats) did not leave presents in your nice shoes.

Things I'm Grateful For

I think I wrote about something similar to this closer to Thanksgiving, but here are a few more things that I'm grateful for (Warning: some are more silly than others):

For my godson's ability to be cute simply by existing.

here is nothing he does that I don't think is absolutely adorable. In so many ways, it reminds me of how our heavenly Father looks upon us. Of course, if there is something that angers Him (in a analogical way), it is our sins, but I do not think that changes how He looks upon us, His creation, with great love. That does not mean sin and the struggle to virtue, and working salvation with fear and trepidation are dismissed, but I think such fear and trepidation is easier to understand within the context of a loving Father, gazing upon His son. MJ will make mistakes, but he is just so imminently lovable.

Premier League Games on Television

I remember being a little kid and waiting for Saturday morning cartoons to start after soccer. Soccer did not interest me back then, but now that I am a genuine Liverpool fan, it brings me great joy to see my beloved Reds take the pitch live in the comfort of my own home. The programming leaves something to be desired, however, when Manchester United vs Liverpool was bumped by sides other than Chelsea, Manchester City and maybe Tottenham. It was a crime that that match was not as accessible as it should have been.

For my friends' growing families.

It is not possible for me to express how grateful I am to see your children, pick them up, play with them, but more importantly, to see you grow in virtue as first, (or even second or third) time fathers and mothers. It is a great joy for me to see Marky change diapers, Jom discuss feeding patterns, Figgz' enthusiasm about Jalen, holding Maya and trying to be friends with Isabella, Annie's pictures of Max and Ben, Ignatius' fear, Isabella's hellos on facebook messenger, etc. I love being part of your family life, even if it is still in a remote way.

Examples of Virtue

Related to the aforementioned, but I am always in awe of men and women who exemplify virtue in their own way. Perhaps, in today's grab bag of negative news, (fake news, real news, doesn't matter. Watching the news is a good way to become overly skeptical of the world) acts of virtue stand out more than they should, but I, for one, am certainly not aware of when they do happen. Just yesterday, I saw some kids at a high school include another kid sitting on the sideline in a basketball game. I do not think they wanted to include him, but they did, finding him a spot in the game. It might be nothing, but for me, it was definitely something.

Friends Who Love Football, Hockey and Basketball

Yes, I wrote about this earlier, but there are few things I enjoy more than hanging with friends and family while watching my favourite teams...lose. There are exceptions mind you: Clemson humiliating Alabama with Father and Ma; seeing the Blazers put the boots to the Sixers and watching the Saints survive against Philly, and... that's pretty much it. This does not mean, however, that sports are not enjoyable, especially when our good friends who are Patriots fan smile their way through a Chargers beat down.

Nuff Said

One Four to Nine

Over 3 Full Football Games. Mass at Home. People I love more than anything. Baptism. Pizza. Sushi. Soccer.

The last five days were wonderful.

All I Want for Christmas

Spending time with family, especially for the last few days of 2018 has been a great blessing. It has been very fulfilling, spending time with my nephew and niece, who prior to this time, were only available to me for a few hours a year. One comment my nephew is very fond of saying is, "No, I don't want it." Just short of four years though,  he is unable to distinguish the fact that his desires are not necessarily the right desires, especially given the context of the common good, or even the desires of his parents. He seems to think that everyone should conform to his every whim, no matter the desire.

While this immaturity has produced its fair share of humorous moments, my mind does not drift afar from the obvious analogy between what I want, and what God wants, at any given moment.

As the Christmas Octave finally draws to a close, the recurring theme is that desire by itself is not sufficient. A correctly ordered will is a real thing. It is not enough to want something simply speaking for that thing to be the best good for us. All things desirable are good, but may not good for that particular moment, or maybe even good for us in general.

Frustrated desires for sure can cause a great deal of anxiety, perplexity, and even resentment. But prayer, the use of reason, and perhaps underappreciated of all, a healthy dose of patience, can hopefully correct a will to desire only the best things at the best possible time, in the best possible context. So while there is only a day left of the Christmas Octave, all I want for Christmas, is to want correctly.