After a glorious summer of scintillating soccer, the Loons losing streak put the playoffs in peril.

I’m no stranger to late rushes to finish a job. You can’t be around students for most of your working life and not see frantic efforts to complete assignments, tests, even prom date arrangements.

There’s nothing wrong with late work. and nothing inherently better about quick completions. If nothing else the make or break moments force you to do something you can always benefit from: focus on the present moment alone.

It’s an immensely valuable skill: one that can seem at odds with meeting all the expectations of scheduling and planning and executing vital plans to complete projects. But in reality, if you are present, truly present in the moment, you are living your life to the fullest.

Owen summed this up beautifully as we watched the game. Loons’ right wing Mender Garcia, stopped running and sat on the pitch. He was one of many who had paused play in the middle of a strenuous and stressful competition. More than a few fans were tired of the breaks in play. We heard grown men around us complain and moan about time wasting, or bad calls, or angling for a foul call.

Owen took a look at this and gave his opinion, “I think he just needs a break.”

I loved that idea.

I loved the notion, that a professional athlete might be, at core, an over-sized two year old: taking a break when he needed it. The biggest difference was that the professional athlete could sit down in frustration, or fatigue, or injury without flailing his legs and calling everyone a poop-butt.

Only the player knew for sure why he was doing it. He’d likely never tell the fans. I hope that in that moment, Mender got what he needed. He certainly seemed to be ok, but uncomfortable. I hope that he could feel where his body was at and what it needed. I’m sure that he found some of the strength he needed to continue on, at least until he was replaced about ten minutes in to the second half. But no matter what else, I hope that he had a moment to work through the pain and just be where he was and know what he was doing for one (relatively) quiet moment.

I saw that same feeling creep over Owen as he munched on gummi-worms and admired the extra long tv screen above the end line. He watched the action on the screen, drinking it deeply. In all the noise and pressure and everything else, he just enjoyed his gummy worm, and the beating of the drums, and simply let it be.

The Loons ended up making the most of the moment. I don’t know as any of them would tell you that they did it because they were truly present in the moment. I doubt that they would blame their losing streak prior to this match as the result of ignoring the best practices of Zen philosophy. But this isn’t about what literally happened, that’s all in the box score. This is about what we learn, and in the midst of the break in a losing streak, and a sunny afternoon chewing gummy worms with my son, I felt more than ever how important appreciating that one moment really is.