It may be slightly un-American, but I am not a sports fan. Don't misunderstand me, I've played on a softball league, coached a girls volleyball team, and long long ago I was on a gymnastics team, but really, I'm not a sports fan. I've been known to watch a few tennis matches, and I'll even admit to watching the Chicago Bulls, just to get a glimpse at Michael Jordan, but if offered court side seats today, it wouldn't be difficult to graciously decline. Let me say it again, I'm not a sports fan. You're probably saying, "Okay, I get it! You're not a sports fan! What's the point?" The point is that God is willing to use what we don't like to teach us what we don't know. Part One is the story. Part two is the application.
My daughter had an early evening appointment, so we decided to go to her school's parking lot where she could complete her assignments and be at the appointment on time. It wasn't a surprise that the lot wasn't empty. The students and staff are very active at this high school. No sweat. We found a spot, parked and my daughter got to work. At some point, I noticed the school's marquee announcing the wrestling match scheduled for that evening. Eww, Wrestling. No drawing power for me! The opposing school's name is what caught my attention. I have a friend who works with their wrestling team, and I'm acquainted with some of the students on the team as well. I called and confirmed that my friend would be there, took my daughter to her appointment, and thirty minutes later, I was standing in the gymnasium looking at the intense faces of several young men and women who bore the marks of concentration and pressure.
I talked with my friend from the team as well as with staff from the hosting school. Ultimately, I chose to sit with "our team" supporters and fans, near the middle section of the gym. I didn't want to sit that close to the mat, but it was fairly close to the exits as well. I wasn't planning to stay for the entire match, but I told myself to be in the moment and enjoy the experience. Riiight… this is wrestling. That equates to flailing, sweaty, smelly bodies all locked up in this gymnasium, which was suddenly getting smaller as my imagination of those odoriferous bodily fluids grew. Ewww, wrestling. (That's what me being in the moment looks like.)
This was not training day for these kids. It was evident that they had conditioned well before this day. It was all about winning. They warmed up by jumping and stretching and tossing their team mates. They rolled and bent their legs in pretzel-like positions. The teams met on the mat, and the announcer called out each name. The hosting team looked like bears. They were stout. They were sturdy. They had laser eyes that pierced through their opponent's core. They outnumbered us, 3 to 1. Initially, I expected to see more wrestlers come from the locker room, but there weren't any more. This was it. I looked behind me, where some of our boys sat on the bleachers. I asked a wrestler why he wasn't on the mat. He shrugged his shoulders and said the coach benched him. My eyes darted to back to the team. They weren't bears. Not as stout, and not quite as sturdy looking. I studied the young men and women on both teams. Yes, our team was out sized and even outnumbered, but weren't phased. They stood there on that mat like giants. They were ready.
The junior varsity girls were first. They shook hands and the first round began. The host girl stood over the visiting girl in what looked like a protective position. The buzzer sounded, and before I could blink, they were in a tight lock. The host girl held her opponent in a head and shoulder lock. It looked hopeless. How could anyone breathe in such a position, let alone maneuver out of it? The second girl did a twist with her upper body which loosened the grip and rendered her free from her captor. Bending at the waists, they stood face to face, eyes searching, hands and arms circling as if trying to find an opening. I felt the stillness. I must have blinked too long because in a split second the visiting girl made contact and had pinned the host girl to the mat. The host coach screamed, "Use your body! Circle! Circle!" What was he talking about? I watched. The visiting wrestler was trying to flatten her opponent's body to the mat. "Circle!" Came the scream. The pinned girl used her legs to lift her body as she dug her feet in to the mat. One foot in front of the other, she walked, indeed circling her opponent thus freeing herself. She bounded to her feet, and both wrestlers were standing, again facing each other. This went on round after round. I took notice of the visiting coach. He wasn't screaming instructions to his wrestler. He sat in his chair as if he was watching a round of golf. Looks really can be deceiving though. I had the inside scoop, so I knew something that the people in the bleachers might not have known. The coach wasn't screaming to his wrestler because she was deaf. He knew that when the rubber met the road for this wrestler, she would have to depend on her training. It all came down to what she knew.
When the final buzzer sounded both wrestlers were clearly exhausted. Hardly able to stand, they took their places next to the referee, who held one hand from each girl. He raised the winner's hand, and the spectators cheered. The girls walked passed each other to the opposing side and shook the coaches hands. They then faced each other, and shook hands. The wrestlers returned to their respective teams, and oddly enough the response from both teams was identical. I knew that the deaf wrestler won the match, but the hosting team was just as enthusiastic with their wrestler as were the visiting teammates with their wrestler. No one held back the hugs, pats or high fives. Both teams showing their pride. Noteworthy, I thought.
When the varsity team took the mat, the atmosphere felt different. There was a distinct air of confidence accompanying these young people. The bears stood strong and resolute. The giants did the same. Knowing they were outmanned hadn't dampened their confidence or desire for victory. They were here to win, and they were here to show the bears just what they were made of. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but this event had the feel of more than just a high school wrestling match. (But what did I know? It was my first match.) Maybe it was determination. Maybe that's why I stayed. I wanted this to be a knock down, drag out fight, with the underdogs coming out on top.
The first wrestler from the visiting team was announced. Instead of approaching the referee and his opponent, he went to the front of the mat, kneeled and prayed. Just as with the previous rounds, this one began with one wrestler taking the dominant position over the other. Let the flailing bodily fluids fly! These guys were intense, even fierce.The coaches yelled instructions as did the crowd. The wrestlers were able to filter who was saying what, and without missing their opponent's moves, were able to adjust, maneuver or be still as instructed. It was round after round of giants verses bears. The coaches yelled instructions and criticisms to the wrestlers, and at times the frustration on the wrestlers faces was obvious. Choke holds and pinnings were part of every round. There were mat burns, banged ears, and bloody noses. This was a game of equilibrium and endurance. If the wrestler could make his or her opponent lose their balance, it could lead to a quick victory. Once he has been pinned, the wrestler's struggle to regain footing and standing often looked like a hopeless cause. At times I feared the wrestler's breathing was being compromised. The pain in my hands let me know that I had been wringing them. When a wrestler was on top, securing his hold on his opponent, I wanted to yell, "Get off of him!" Instead, I covered my mouth with my clinched fists. I wanted to rush to the mat and pull the wrestlers apart. I repeatedly found myself gasping for air. "What am I doing here?" I thought. "What in the world was I thinking? I am not a sports fan! I should be home studying or reading a book or making something!" I felt the urge to leave, but I couldn't. My feet were bolted to the floor, and the exits were miles away. I thought about Jacob wrestling with the angel. That's when it hit me… I know this feeling. It's grief. (TO BE CONTINUED)
I talked with my friend from the team as well as with staff from the hosting school. Ultimately, I chose to sit with "our team" supporters and fans, near the middle section of the gym. I didn't want to sit that close to the mat, but it was fairly close to the exits as well. I wasn't planning to stay for the entire match, but I told myself to be in the moment and enjoy the experience. Riiight… this is wrestling. That equates to flailing, sweaty, smelly bodies all locked up in this gymnasium, which was suddenly getting smaller as my imagination of those odoriferous bodily fluids grew. Ewww, wrestling. (That's what me being in the moment looks like.)
This was not training day for these kids. It was evident that they had conditioned well before this day. It was all about winning. They warmed up by jumping and stretching and tossing their team mates. They rolled and bent their legs in pretzel-like positions. The teams met on the mat, and the announcer called out each name. The hosting team looked like bears. They were stout. They were sturdy. They had laser eyes that pierced through their opponent's core. They outnumbered us, 3 to 1. Initially, I expected to see more wrestlers come from the locker room, but there weren't any more. This was it. I looked behind me, where some of our boys sat on the bleachers. I asked a wrestler why he wasn't on the mat. He shrugged his shoulders and said the coach benched him. My eyes darted to back to the team. They weren't bears. Not as stout, and not quite as sturdy looking. I studied the young men and women on both teams. Yes, our team was out sized and even outnumbered, but weren't phased. They stood there on that mat like giants. They were ready.
The junior varsity girls were first. They shook hands and the first round began. The host girl stood over the visiting girl in what looked like a protective position. The buzzer sounded, and before I could blink, they were in a tight lock. The host girl held her opponent in a head and shoulder lock. It looked hopeless. How could anyone breathe in such a position, let alone maneuver out of it? The second girl did a twist with her upper body which loosened the grip and rendered her free from her captor. Bending at the waists, they stood face to face, eyes searching, hands and arms circling as if trying to find an opening. I felt the stillness. I must have blinked too long because in a split second the visiting girl made contact and had pinned the host girl to the mat. The host coach screamed, "Use your body! Circle! Circle!" What was he talking about? I watched. The visiting wrestler was trying to flatten her opponent's body to the mat. "Circle!" Came the scream. The pinned girl used her legs to lift her body as she dug her feet in to the mat. One foot in front of the other, she walked, indeed circling her opponent thus freeing herself. She bounded to her feet, and both wrestlers were standing, again facing each other. This went on round after round. I took notice of the visiting coach. He wasn't screaming instructions to his wrestler. He sat in his chair as if he was watching a round of golf. Looks really can be deceiving though. I had the inside scoop, so I knew something that the people in the bleachers might not have known. The coach wasn't screaming to his wrestler because she was deaf. He knew that when the rubber met the road for this wrestler, she would have to depend on her training. It all came down to what she knew.
When the final buzzer sounded both wrestlers were clearly exhausted. Hardly able to stand, they took their places next to the referee, who held one hand from each girl. He raised the winner's hand, and the spectators cheered. The girls walked passed each other to the opposing side and shook the coaches hands. They then faced each other, and shook hands. The wrestlers returned to their respective teams, and oddly enough the response from both teams was identical. I knew that the deaf wrestler won the match, but the hosting team was just as enthusiastic with their wrestler as were the visiting teammates with their wrestler. No one held back the hugs, pats or high fives. Both teams showing their pride. Noteworthy, I thought.
When the varsity team took the mat, the atmosphere felt different. There was a distinct air of confidence accompanying these young people. The bears stood strong and resolute. The giants did the same. Knowing they were outmanned hadn't dampened their confidence or desire for victory. They were here to win, and they were here to show the bears just what they were made of. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but this event had the feel of more than just a high school wrestling match. (But what did I know? It was my first match.) Maybe it was determination. Maybe that's why I stayed. I wanted this to be a knock down, drag out fight, with the underdogs coming out on top.
The first wrestler from the visiting team was announced. Instead of approaching the referee and his opponent, he went to the front of the mat, kneeled and prayed. Just as with the previous rounds, this one began with one wrestler taking the dominant position over the other. Let the flailing bodily fluids fly! These guys were intense, even fierce.The coaches yelled instructions as did the crowd. The wrestlers were able to filter who was saying what, and without missing their opponent's moves, were able to adjust, maneuver or be still as instructed. It was round after round of giants verses bears. The coaches yelled instructions and criticisms to the wrestlers, and at times the frustration on the wrestlers faces was obvious. Choke holds and pinnings were part of every round. There were mat burns, banged ears, and bloody noses. This was a game of equilibrium and endurance. If the wrestler could make his or her opponent lose their balance, it could lead to a quick victory. Once he has been pinned, the wrestler's struggle to regain footing and standing often looked like a hopeless cause. At times I feared the wrestler's breathing was being compromised. The pain in my hands let me know that I had been wringing them. When a wrestler was on top, securing his hold on his opponent, I wanted to yell, "Get off of him!" Instead, I covered my mouth with my clinched fists. I wanted to rush to the mat and pull the wrestlers apart. I repeatedly found myself gasping for air. "What am I doing here?" I thought. "What in the world was I thinking? I am not a sports fan! I should be home studying or reading a book or making something!" I felt the urge to leave, but I couldn't. My feet were bolted to the floor, and the exits were miles away. I thought about Jacob wrestling with the angel. That's when it hit me… I know this feeling. It's grief. (TO BE CONTINUED)
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