Tag: Dear Kids

81. Rules Aren’t Rules

81. Rules Aren’t Rules

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One of my personal pet peeves as a kid growing up was when teachers or classmates would explain why certain things had to happen by falling back on the old saw: “Rules are rules.”

As a kid it seemed basic, trite, and not very informative.

As an adult who uses it more often than I probably know, it usually comes up when I don’t particularly want to explain something (or actually can’t explain it well, but still want to control the situation).

Even as a kid, I understood that some rules helped and organized us. Both then, and now, I don’t want to live in a world without rules.

But the dirty little truth is, “rules aren’t always rules”, no matter what parents or teachers say. Every rule has an exception, and every exception can be expanded. You should be mindful of the fact that what we perceive as an iron clad rule, can still be studied, explored, experimented upon and finally: changed.

Or as put more simply in your mom’s favorite Cinematic masterpiece:

In the recently concluded soccer season, I had two difficult realizations that what I had long assumed were the permanent rules, were in reality…guidelines.

The women of Grenoble were the first to face the new rules, and they fell on the foul side of things.

I thought the rules for the final standings would be the rules I’ve always known:

  1. Of the 12 teams in Grenoble’s division, 1 would go up to Ligue 1, and two would go down to the national leagues.

Grenoble was 7th heading into the final match, so they should have been fine.

Except

The rules changed: Only six teams would be safe from relegation: the winners who went up to Ligue 1, and the five following sides. Everyone from seventh on down was heading to the national league.

Okay, I thought. That’s a big rule change, but if you’re going to make a single second division league, then this kind of cull will have to happen. So seventh isn’t good enough any more, but I know how they will move up in their spots past rival Albi Marsaac:

  1. Get more points than your rival, basically win when your opponents lose (in this case, Albi lost while Grenoble got a draw, but I assumed there was still hope because)
  2. Have a better goal difference than your rival…(in this case, Grenoble had a four goal cushion, and Albi’s loss made it even clearer, Grenoble wins!)
  3. Have a better head-to-head record than you rival….(in this case, Albi won both of the games back in November…but it should be moot because Grenoble has the goal difference…right?)

Wrong.

In addition to the change in relegation, France decided to alter the final positions so that it was decided by, points earned (wins and losses), then head-to-head record, then goal difference.

In theory, I would have to say: okay, that tracks. I’m used to things working the other way, but I suppose this would be kind of a naturally embedded playoff happening within the league each and every week, and direct competition beats an average.

In reality, now that head-to-head record trumped goal difference, what theoretically made sense was profoundly unfair because it cost my preferred team.

I still can’t quite believe that the French Federation didn’t ask me about this rule change. I mean. The nerve! I am the foremost French Women’s Second Division Blogger in the Upper Midwest! And they didn’t ask MOI?!?…sorry French Federation, that was sarcasm.

But in the highlands, another rule change served our team very well.

Again I thought the rules were the rules. Ross County had to play Partick Thistle both at home and the road, with the result being decided the way I always knew.

  1. Combine the scores over the two games and the team who is ahead overall wins. (In this case, it ended County 3, Thistle 3)
  2. If tied, the team that scores more away goals wins (Thistle 2, County 0…and pbbbt go the Staggies)
  3. If tied on away goals, there’s a final tiebreaker of penalty kicks (but as noted above…the Stags already went pbbbt)

I’ve already recapped the wildness of County’s final game, but I truly was despondent seeing them comeback to tie it up only to think…but that one Partick Thistle goal made all the difference.

But the rules weren’t the rules.

Scotland had chucked the away goals rule, which enabled all that followed, including the celebrations in a quiet corner of St. Paul, Minnesota.

(Again, on theoretical reflection: I can see why scoring on the road is harder than scoring at home and thus worth some extra credit, but it also feels like a pretty meager argument as opposed to say…winning games).

These may seem like silly little case studies, and they are. But they both highlight a truth: we want to protect rules that help us, and are ready to chuck the rules that don’t.

Protect the rule that would have spared Grenoble; chuck the rule that would have cost County.

After all, rules are rules, but I’d like them to be more like guidelines.

It comes up outside of soccer too:

At the start of this month, the rules changed for me, and for the dozens of people who work with me.

Dear Boys,

Our school, though its prone to bat infestations and crumbling…everything…has done well. Students have made major growth in their learning. Families have reported that the staff is engaged, caring, and committed to the community. You boys have been able to join in, and play merrily with colleagues and kids (as shown by the bouncy slide pictured here). Our school, despite some real problems, consistently rate as the best school in our little crew of four buildings. And the rules of schools make it pretty clear that you don’t close schools that do well.

But rules of schools also say, you have to make do with what little you have.

Rather than paying for us to stay in the ramshackle old school, our group of schools closed the building I worked in. To follow one rule, they had to break another. And so, the team of educators who worked so well together has been somewhat scattered. The emotions that get so tied up in a place were buffeted this way and that.

But my colleagues were still hurt. They wanted to protect the rule that would have kept us safe, and ignore the rule that broke us up.

Rules aren’t rules.

And hard as it is, when rules change, when they morph or adapt or turn into “guidelines” there’s not a whole lot you can do.

Grenoble will play in the lower league next year.

Ross County will stay in the top league no matter what Partick Thistle prefers.

My colleagues and I will teach in an odd little niche of another building come August.

I do believe that all will be well. You don’t need to be in one place to be a quality teacher. The place doesn’t make the school, the people do, and while I will miss those people who have moved on, I’m ready to help those who remain. (Just as I’m sure, Grenoble’s ladies will be motivated to get back to the upper league.)

Things change, and it’s important to be ready to change with it.

Changes happen and much as we predict perfection, or fear the unknown, we won’t know until we see it–it’s an experiment, and because rules aren’t rules…they’re more like…guidelines…we can change them and change them and change them again.

80. Blame it on the Jelly

80. Blame it on the Jelly

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As the parent who takes charge of your breakfast and lunch, I know that favorite meals come in fads. I made salmon cakes throughout the pre-pandemic winter; I have a full mac and cheese preparation routine; I know that Owen’s smashed egg sandwiches aren’t finished until I say “smashy, smashy”. But few meals have as much meaning for life as Alex’s beloved jelly toast.

Dear Boys,

When bad things happen to favorite meals, there’s a lot of frustration.

Frustration might be underselling it.

When bad things happen at all, there’s a lot of tears/screams/flailing/doomsday talk . It makes sense after all. At only three and five years old, you boys feel everything more deeply because you only have so many experiences. Things are the best thing ever or the greatest injustice of your life, because it’s your life, it’s your ever. And every day and every problem feels like a big deal because you are (often) dealing with it for the first time.

I saw that drama start to take root one morning as the jelly toast tumbled off the kitchen counter.

“Whoops!” I Said, “we can get that!” But cheery as I sounded, Alex’s face had already clouded over like a microburst on the prairie.

“Hey Bud,” I said, “I see you’re upset. I think we’re gonna have to just blame it on the jelly”.

Alex looked confused, and I tried to explain, but quickly realized the best solution would be to show the video that inspired me.

Local goalkeeping hero Sammy N’djock might have had some shock going from Cameroon to Turkey, to Minnesota, but he was an excellent keeper, and a great role model in trying times.

That own goal was arguably one of the ugliest of the year. It was played on social media, it was laughed at around the world, I heard it talked about on multiple podcasts and given the goofy low-lights treatment on cable tv. But Sammy N’djock didn’t collapse when it happened, he (and the Minnesota United Team made a joke of it)

When the video was over, Alex laughed. “He made a mistake because there was jelly on his gloves!”

“Not really, Bud.“ I explained, “but he made a mistake, and rather than scream about it, he chose to laugh and move on. He just blamed it on the jelly, and it was over”.

I had hoped that this would give Alex an easy way to remember that even the most embarrassing moments are just that: moments. Even the hardest times can be learned from. The greatest embarrassments are just one laugh away from making you smile.

Lots of goalkeepers know that lesson. But Sammy N’djock, modeled that so well. A short memory, a positive approach and a good sense of humor all help you accept that hard times are real, but they aren’t the only times we have.

I wish I could say that “blame it on the jelly” helps Alex and Owen just laugh and let go of frustrations. (I wish I could say, I followed it all the time–but I don’t.) But the big feelings keep crashing over us, and sometimes we handle it, and sometimes we don’t. I don’t expect that this will solve everything, but I hope that, when you face big frustrations that could unsettle any adult, you can be like Sammy N’djock and blame it on the jelly.

78. Lucky and Good

78. Lucky and Good

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We live in a bit of a trophy desert.

The Twin Cities have seen 32 years go by since one of the big sports franchises in town won a title.

There have been smaller victories: college teams that top the land, minor league titles in baseball and soccer, and a truly dominant women’s basketball team.

But ask most fans to talk about Minnesota Sports and the story they tell you is one of pain and defeat: with phrases like, “the Cuzzi Call”, or “Gary Anderson’s Wide Left”, or “Bountygate” sure to bring a rueful sigh and a wince of emotion. Heck just say “New York Yankees” and your mom and I may let loose very un-parental profanity.

Part of doing this writing project for the last three years has been to put some of those defeats into context. To write about how sports are not better or worse because you win or lose. To try to raise you boys up to accept the defeats with grace and good humor rather than embittered angst that you see in the sourest local fans.

But it’s also to appreciate the great moments for what they are: truly special.

Dear Boys,

Most years, there’s not much to cheer for as a fan. In 2020 none of our teams took a trophy. In 2021 two of them (Emelec and Montana) picked up three between them. 2022 saw another round of positive performances that never included a golden trophy. This year was only 61 days old before one of our teams won a trophy.

Chencho, Brandon, and Lallawmawma in a more desperate defensive position (view19.in)

That victory, that trophy, that triumph is undoubtedly special. We’re thrilled for the players, coaches and extra staff that work for Roundglass Punjab. It’s worth while just to sit and savor it for a moment. But it’s also a great opportunity to learn a lesson from it as well.

While Emelec ran away with their league and the Griz took one tournament title through grit and another by default. But Punjab’s triumph was less secure.

In fact, just a week before their triumph hopes were fading.

They trailed a rival (Sreenidi Deccan) by goal difference, and Punjab had arguably the harder schedule ahead. They couldn’t just win, they needed to win by wide margins AND get help if they were going to take the title. A glaring defeat to Deccan seemed to loom bigger and bigger as the matches passed.

And then, it all seemed to fall into place.

No championship is won without a clear plan and organization: chaos does not yield results with any consistency. They went unbeaten in their last ten games. Punjab had one of the most impressive attacking trios of the league. Their goalie has conceded only 1 goal in the last 540 minutes of play. Powerful offense and stingy defense…that’s a pretty easy way to win games. They built a team to do it, developed a plan for it, and executed it perfectly.

Ashish Pradan before a decisive bit of good luck. (view19.in)

At the same time, no championship is won without a sizable amount of good fortune and Punjab’s title certainly shows that too: Deccan’s 4-0 loss to 10th place Mohammadan SC was a huge boon to the cause. The availability of Chenchyo Geltshen to create a three-headed monster at the front of the attack was not expected but extremely welcome. An own goal scored by Gokulam FC accounted for a game that might have been a draw to give Punjab all three points.

Some people will tell you that it’s better to be lucky than good. Punjab is certainly good, and they might be a little luckier than most. But their victory shows an honest reality: the best results come when people make the most of the luck they get.

Success isn’t just about a plan, and it isn’t just happenstance.

Success is a combination of good planning and good fortune.

And as Minnesota sports fans know: success is truly special.

77. Complexity

77. Complexity

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This is a time set aside each year to be extra intentional in how we consider and study the lessons of Black History Month in our nation.

There is no wrong time to study this, and this is certainly not the only time to study this, but it’s good to bring some intention to the work we do and how we do it.

At first glance, you might not see the effect of Black History in our lives. We are white men. We can, if we so choose, read stories and learn histories that emphasize people who look and think like us. We can blinker ourselves to the belief that we are here because people like us have done everything of importance.

But we choose not to make things that simple.

Dear Boys,

That’s Briana Scurry. Specifically, it’s young Briana Scurry from her time playing youth soccer (like you) in the Twin Cities (like you). Arguably, the greatest goalkeeper in the history of the United States. Certainly, one of the most impactful athletes of my life time.

I could teach you about Scurry’s superb play. She controlled the goal for the Women’s National Team en route to a World Cup title and two Gold Medals. She was the quintessential American keeper: poised under pressure and fiery in her leadership. But playing very well isn’t where the impact comes from.

I could talk to you about how she broke new ground. She helped to start the agitation for equal pay between the women’s and men’s team. She was a woman of color and an openly gay athlete at a time where it was difficult to be either, let alone both. But if we simply celebrate the accomplishments you miss out on the context that surrounds them.

I could discuss the challenges that complicated her life: the concussion that ended her career: the depression that endangered her life and her livelihood. But, fixation with someone’s problems can create a simplified view that makes someone little more than a victim of circumstances.

From OutSports.com

The truth is that Briana Scurry has handled all of those issues and more. She has gone through trials and tribulations and emerged the other side with a full sense of who she is and who she wants to be. Briana’s play created one of my most lasting memories of soccer, one that influences my work with it even now. Her historic legacy shows us there’s progress to be made and celebrations that go far beyond winning and losing. Her perseverance reminds us that there is much more humanity in our heroes than we acknowledge when we fret over wins and losses.

Briana Scurry’s story is much more than one post, or one game, or one lesson. She shows that there’s so much to see and to learn and to accept and to do if we open ourselves to everyone else. That’s what serves us best during these months of special celebration: it’s not a single lesson, or a particular inspiration. The lives don’t have meaning because they touch us, they are important because they are so complex, and remind us that we are all complex.

We contain multitudes. And everyone is better for it.

75.5 The Lessons from 2022

75.5 The Lessons from 2022

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Here now is a run down of another years worth of soccer lectures (even though they came at an awkward pace)

Dear Boys

65 Saying goodbye to our pooch and remembering: love is the thing that lasts.

66 A vacation, a great indie-rock band, Alebrijes and Regan Charles Cook teaching us: all that is, is what we need right now.

67 A special note from Chris Citowicki: explaining how find joy and work through adversity.

68 Managers from Streich to Heath, more powerful leaders, superheroes of every stripe and the lesson that power isn’t part of people.

69 Watching the Loons playoff hopes and remembering to focus on the present moment alone

70 Encanto, Ross County, Burn Out and how there’s power and strength and beauty, just in being.

71 Alex’s strategizing: Keep it Simple, Son.

72 Owen’s realization while watching injuries and own goals that Good things can come: even from ouchies..

73 The World Cup, Harry Potter, problematic favorites and why it’s vital to remember that art is owned by the audience, not the artist.

74 valuable lessons from when we weren’t watching:
.1 Rosenborg/Alebrijes teach us balance yourself, neither your strengths nor your struggles define you.
.2 Minnesota’s teams and Ross County tell us there’s no place like home….so enjoy it while it lasts
.3 Freiburg’s failing explains that much as we want the shiniest trophies, being your best, regardless of the result can be the greatest reward
.4 Punjab’s long run showing that whatever else you focus on, life carries on.
.5 Vozdovak offers the inspiration that Hope is a thing with dragon wings.
.6 How Montana’s showdowns reflect that game recognizes game
.7 Atrophy in Grenoble reminds us to never underestimate the element of surprise
.8 Legon Cities needs to remember that love is love, but dependency is dangerous.
.9 Emelec’s unfortunate outcomes force us to remember part of the journey is the end, and that’s beautiful too.

75 Being new Freiburg fans and how, even without a nice shiny trophy: the journey itself is special.

75.5. Obviously, 2022 was a weird year, but that’s the only sort of year we’ve had since you boys have been alive. We’re surrounded by more and more and more stimuli, but that’s to be expected. If this year taught us anything it was to remember: appreciate the present and what is, let go of the future, the past, and what you wish things would be.

The Big Lesson from the World Cup

The Big Lesson from the World Cup

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This World Cup, like every world cup, had a lot to teach us. But one story stood out above the others: the fairy tale story of Lionel Messi.

Messi is world renowned, possibly the most famous soccer player of our age even though he looks like your run of the mill hipster barista. His skills make him possibly the most outstanding player alive, but to many he couldn’t compare with legends of the past, because he hadn’t won the World Cup.

This year was likely to be Messi’s last chance to win the cup. Think pieces, documentaries, podcasts, everyone was talking about Messi’s chance to end his career with a happily ever after. But when the tournament started with a stunning defeat to Saudi Arabia and a lackluster win against Mexico, many people began to talk about how it wouldn’t end well for him. So there was a lot of excitement and uncertainty as the next round approached.

Twas the night before the Second Round

And all ’round the earth

No one was comfortable

In their Round of 16 Berth…

–A silly poem I wrote to your uncles and grandpa before the second round

But as the tournament progressed, Messi grew into the matches. He helped pilot the team through the challenges of knockout matches. As time went on the best teams continued to win, and the best players continued to showcase their skills. Suddenly there was a feeling that Messi might yet win the trophy that had eluded him and end his international career with a flourish.

Still there was reality to deal with. Specifically the fact that real life isn’t a fairy tale. There are any number of fairy tales that could happen, but don’t. In this tournament there were fifteen other teams that felt just as destined. There was a raft of other great stories to hear and legends to tell, and there was excitement for all of them. There was every reason to expect that the fairy tale wouldn’t come true. And as first Australia and then Holland pushed Messi’s team to the limit, only for them to come out on top anyway. But there was still a final to play.

The upsets were over

But the drama was great

both legends and new stars

had made the last eight…

Then during the quarters

There arose such a clatter

Even non-fans tuned in

to see what was the matter

Surprise wins delighted

and PKs caused pain

As Brazil and Ronaldo were ousted

And so too, Harry Kane

Three more stanzas of poetry written after the octa/quarter finals

So we reached the final. The last team in the way of the fairy tale ending was France, the reigning champions, and a team with little patience for narratives. Your grandpa came over, and the whole world tuned in. It looked as though Messi would lead his side to an easy win…until it didn’t.

First one goal, then another, and France had the momentum. Messi scored again…and so did France. It seemed that the fairy tale would end…until, it didn’t, and the dream came true.

Then with the last whistle blown

and the trophy raised high

All our month-long obsessions

Vanished like dust in the sky

With Leo Messi triumphant

And Argentinean victory

We relish the moments

And call on our memories

–Post semis and finals stanzas

That was the big take away. Everywhere I turned, all those think pieces, documentaries, and podcasts, they all echoed the same thing. I tried to think of something different, another moral, another lesson, but honestly, that’s the truth. sometimes, fairy tales do come true (especially if you work tirelessly).

That’s something worth remembering. Given that most of the World Cup carried the stink of corruption, of bribery, of abuse and intolerance, it’s easy to forget that there are magical things that happen. That cynicism can creep into everything that we do until we blind ourselves to even the non-Messi fairy tales.

Dear Boys,

I even saw it a few days after the tournament, as an article introduced a new series on another website. The Athletic will follow 7 players from around the world before the next World Cup kicks off in 2026. One of them, Bikash Yumnam, plies his trade for our own Roundglass Punjab FC. So this series is right in my wheel house, and I was discouraged to read a comment from a fellow reader.

I don’t see the point of following a player who’s still playing in the 2nd Indian division at age 19. He’s likely not going anywhere.

–Athletic Reader “Kim P.”

Perhaps I’m defensive of Punjab FC. Perhaps I’m sentimental. Perhaps I personalized an online comment that maybe took the writer twenty seconds to think about. But this is exactly what drives me crazy. We just saw a fairy tale ending for one of the greatest players of all time. Why can’t we suspend our disbelief and hope for a fairy tale for 19 year old Center back from Manipur?

We can. We should. Because fairy tales come true. Bikash likely won’t win the World Cup in 4 years, but maybe it will. Maybe his fairy tale will end with a Hero League trophy. Maybe it will end with an Asian Cup appearance. Maybe it will end with a hamstring tear that leaves him to find the love of his life. Who knows what it will be, but whatever it is, maybe we can appreciate the magic of it just as much as we believe in the magic of Messi.

Yay Likovic, yay Hakimi

Yay Doan and Gakpo

Yay McCallister, yay Kudus

Yay Adams and Ramo–s

We’ll cheer and we’ll cheer

all through the highlights

Happy World Cup to all

And to all a goodnight

–The end of my poem, another silly bit with dreams about future stars.
On Plops, Injuries, and Good Things

On Plops, Injuries, and Good Things

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I truly enjoy sharing what thoughts you boys have, even if your future selves might rather I not log your childhood musings quite so publicly.

Dear Boys,

This year, with the pandemic more clearly behind us, and with vaccinations empowering your anti-bodies, taking you to games finally became a possibility. I was delighted to take you, thrilled to have some quality personal time just papa and a boy.

You really liked gummy worms.

That was your major take away from soccer matches: that’s where gummy worms come from.

If there’s one thing you noticed about the play on the field it’s that–sometimes–people plop down.

Owen in particularly seemed taken with the collapses and injuries (both genuine and simulated), and while it seems an odd thing to learn from, I feel like there is a lesson there. (This whole blog could be renamed “odd things to learn from” but I digress)

On a blustery summer’s day, Owen and I watched the Loons play the Houston Dynamo, only to see winger Franco Frangapane fall to the earth just as we prepared to leave the match.

We paused, Owen bouncing on my hip to look out and watch the ensuing free kick, a shot that came ricocheting off of Emmanuel Reynoso’s foot, and then Fabrice-Jean Picault’s backside, and thence into the net.

Good things can come: even from ouchies.

It’s easy to assume that if something hurts, it’s bad.

If something isn’t fun, it’s bad.

If you don’t like something it’s bad.

It’s a common thread of critique, complaint and general dissatisfaction. At a time when you can have just about anything you want whenever you want, learning that something that seems bad can lead to something better is important.

Maybe Owen was already primed for that lesson after discovering a new found passion for that hallmark of toddler obsession: Frozen.

The whole movie hinges on characters loathing something that hurts or causes pain, and rushing headlong towards what gives them pleasure. Elsa hates having ice powers. Her parents get her to hide them. She tries to avoid it with everything she has. Meanwhile her sister, Anna, aka Owen’s new favorite stuffed friend, stops talking to Elsa. She jumps head long into an engagement with a man she had met just moments before and who she can only describe as “dreamy”.

But the rush for pleasure put Anna at risk (her suitor turns out to be a duplicitous dinkwad), and the ultimate salvation comes courtesy of Elsa and her powers. Her powers are what makes good things (Olaf, the aforementioned dinkwad’s come-uppance) possible.

So I suppose it was appropriate that Owen spent the match with Anna in his hands, even for the Wonderwall chants.

I hope you know, that gummy worms are great…but so are plops.

KISS

KISS

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I have taken Alex with me to matches throughout his life. Even at under a year old, he was wrapped up in a baby carrier, being toted through a stadium filled with shouts and screams all so he could be present for the events.

Dear Boys,

And yet, he mostly slept or cried.

In the years since, he’s become more of an afficianado. He will ask to watch with me from time to time. He truly enjoys wearing his Loons gear, and he’s even started attending and adoring soccer training at pre-school: Soccer Shots. (Quoth the coach: “Alex shows growing ability at scoring goals!)

So heading back into the stadium this year, the first year of confident-Post-COVID attendance, I was hoping to see if he had developed a more refined appreciation of the game: more understanding of nuance and interest in both what happened with the ball and what happened away from it. The match didn’t disappoint: Luis Amarilla netted twice, Bongokuhle Hlongwane got his first goal at home to raucous applause, and the opposing Portland Timbers matched the Loons every step of the way. Surely, I thought, this will create a deep and multifaceted love of the game in Alex.

Alex’s take away: the gummy worms at the stadium are really good. And celebrating goals is fun!


It might sound like I’m making fun, but the truth is, I really envy how clearly Alex can see things. I want to hold on to that idea, I want to come back to it again and again.

As someone who can make absolutely everything overwrought, I need to remember that Alex’s approach is often the best. Keep it Simple, Son.

(Okay, that’s not the usual acronym, but I’m actively trying to avoid name calling, even towards myself)

You can worry about the pace, or the marking strategy. You can worry over the expressions you use and whether or not you have anybody reading your work.

In all that worrying, in all that cogitating, you can lose sight of the thing that you actively want to do.

Score goals.

Write.

In short, just be. And Alex already understands that.

Keep it simple, son.

Leaving things late

Leaving things late

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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.

Dear Boys

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.

Mender in a more acrobatic moment

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.

Zen and the art of Gummy Bears

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.

67. Feel the Power

67. Feel the Power

by scruffyrube ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

You boys have a great fondness for super heroes.

Dear Boys,

I mean, who doesn’t? Superheroes are awesome. Your uncles and I often spent afternoons being Batman, Robin and any number of different bad guys. You boys prefer Spiderman (he is cooler, to be honest) and also have room in your hearts for PJ Masks, Ms Marvel, and your own inventions: Builder Spider [Spiderman with construction powers], and Red Cape.

Superheroes are cool, and superhero stories are great. But there’s something that can get confused in the fun of saving the day.

Powers are fun, and the heroes behind them are often great. But power isn’t part of people.

Super heroes tend to come by their powers in unusual ways (radioactive spider bites, other worldly mists, tragic backstories plus ninja training, magical pajamas…) but all of them are people first, and then empowered people. Heroes hold on to their humanity and don’t confuse themselves with their powers.

With good reason. Power can make someone more than a person. Give them enough power and it can make them feel and seem superior. When that power embeds itself in a person it becomes easier and easier to confuse yourself for the power you enjoy and justify all manner of unfair habits, tactics, and tendencies.

Superpowers are easy enough to see as imaginary. But there’s a real problem with power in the real world too. In our world lot’s of people have power, and even more want it. That power might be physical, it might be political, it might be social, it might be economic. Once people have it they start to obsess over holding on to it. And when people confuse themselves with the power they hold, they can be downright dangerous.

Christian Streich knows power lies within (bayernstrikes.com)

Consider, the ways that soccer coaches struggle to acknowledge that they’ve made a mistake. You might find the occasional coach (Citowicki or Streich) who owns their mistakes, but many others find a way to turn it around and blame it on the players they work with (cou*Heath*gh!). It can save your job, it can keep your power. But to what end?

You can see it among players too. Players who earn a bevy of awards and heaps of praise have a tendency to see themselves as bigger than the game. It’s why many players end up in trouble: their power creates a sense that they are more than others, and then they forget what other people need (witness tax evasion, blackmail, mafia connections, and assault).

The man behind the “muscle” (The Economist)

At it’s worst, this obsession with power can drive a whole country off the rails. I certainly see it in domestic politics as people ignore what’s good for the country as a whole when there’s a political point to be scored. Even worse is the poop butt in Russia whose need for consistent power has led him to attack innocent neighbors and endanger his own soldiers for no reason other than increasing his empire and his need for validation.

There’s so many examples of power corrupting, twisting minds and actions to their worst ends that it’s easy to come away with a cynical view. But I have hope.

I believe that human nature is good. I believe that our shared humanity will lead us to do the right thing, even though our individual desires beckon us to do the wrong thing. Above all else I see you boys planning all kinds of ways to “save the day” and I think, “power doesn’t have to corrupt, you just have to know that it’s something you use, not something you keep.”