Earlier this year, one of our teams went viral.
In September, during one of Oaxaca’s rare offensive outbursts, a stray dog simply could not contain it’s excitement and did this before the final whistle blew…
Clearly, this wasn’t intended. I’m sure that the players would have rather been seen world wide for a particularly fantastic bit of skill, or a startling comeback with a thunderous goal.
But rather than complain or shout or think about what they had wanted to happen, everyone on the team and in the office chose to celebrate. They adopted Max, welcoming him as a new mascot/substitute player (truthfully, given the rate they shipped goals…and Max’s impressive ball control, it was a joke that might have been better as fact).
More often than not, you kids have plans in place, and you hate when anything disrupts them. Alex wants to play with someone else, and to win. Owen has whole dramatic scenes perfectly scripted in his head, that the rest of us, infuriatingly, don’t execute as he wants. (Honestly, I’m not sure why it takes three people to have a stuffed shark wake up a baby komodo dragon…or why it’s Owen’s daily ritual…but here we are.)
I have the same problem. I want you to eat a full meal. I want you to be on time to school. I want you to get to bed at a decent hour so you can have a full night’s sleep. And, while I may not stamp, or scream or snit when it doesn’t happen, I don’t really celebrate either.
But Alebrijes shows us that it doesn’t have to be that way. We can embrace the chaos, we can welcome the unforeseen interruption and appreciate what it is rather than what we want it to be. In all of it, there’s a joy to be had when you let go of what you want and embrace what you have (if only for a moment).
Dear Boys,
MacKenzie's Boot Room 