March Madness
The Legs and TallulahOur nest is situated in an area where college hoops are of equal importance with the celebration of the Lenten season. We live slightly accosted with an obscene amount of big orange and folks that think the tide ebbs and flows with seed numbers...
Years ago I may have been talking about how many crops were being planted, the number of acres that would be harvested, how many annuals we were hoping to start in the beds. Today, the seed implication is all about basketball rankings. Where the boys will start in the tournament. Whether it's fair or not. I don't full understand rankings and polls and how teams are judged and matched, but that final term is one that resonates loudly. FAIR. I hear it often, usually in the context of it's just not fair. Hmm, a multitude of posts could be written on that phrase, but back to the subject at hand, good ole' March Madness.
While watching the late local news this evening, a young man stated that the team didn't get a fair seed. They had beaten the #1 and #2 teams during the season and now their ranking was set as sixth. He was whining and I was not feeling appreciative. I wanted to sit him down and school him on fair. I was actually getting mad at the television.
What did he know about fair? His clothing, shoes, travel, food and education are all paid for. He plays basketball, a sport he loves, in exchange, and will go on to make oodles of money doing it professionally. Little ones in Africa go without food or adequate shelter. My amazing friend has a disease that has made her home bound, yet she writes on surrender http://www.incourage.me/2010/03/i-surrender.html. My chicks grow up in a nest where we are constantly vigilant because one of us has a compromised immune system. I'm watching this cocky young man on the telly and telling him he wouldn't know fair if it ran squarely into his 6 foot 7 inch build and smacked him in the face. Every ounce of me wants to show him fair.
A commercial airs, and I suddenly realize that I'm the one that's been hit with March madness. Instead of looking at things from his point of view, I selfishly interject my own. I'm judging, and that's what's not fair, nor right. I need to remember that although his circumstances may not mirror my own (um, free food and lodging) they are his and he's probably worked through situations I'd never want to find myself in. In my fury of comebacks, I've forgotten the most important one. Grace...she sneaks in and covers fair like the first snow of the season every single time, leaving it pure and white and unblemished. No dirt, dust, tracks. Just pure loveliness covering up the ugly of fair.
Years ago I may have been talking about how many crops were being planted, the number of acres that would be harvested, how many annuals we were hoping to start in the beds. Today, the seed implication is all about basketball rankings. Where the boys will start in the tournament. Whether it's fair or not. I don't full understand rankings and polls and how teams are judged and matched, but that final term is one that resonates loudly. FAIR. I hear it often, usually in the context of it's just not fair. Hmm, a multitude of posts could be written on that phrase, but back to the subject at hand, good ole' March Madness.
While watching the late local news this evening, a young man stated that the team didn't get a fair seed. They had beaten the #1 and #2 teams during the season and now their ranking was set as sixth. He was whining and I was not feeling appreciative. I wanted to sit him down and school him on fair. I was actually getting mad at the television.
What did he know about fair? His clothing, shoes, travel, food and education are all paid for. He plays basketball, a sport he loves, in exchange, and will go on to make oodles of money doing it professionally. Little ones in Africa go without food or adequate shelter. My amazing friend has a disease that has made her home bound, yet she writes on surrender http://www.incourage.me/2010/03/i-surrender.html. My chicks grow up in a nest where we are constantly vigilant because one of us has a compromised immune system. I'm watching this cocky young man on the telly and telling him he wouldn't know fair if it ran squarely into his 6 foot 7 inch build and smacked him in the face. Every ounce of me wants to show him fair.
A commercial airs, and I suddenly realize that I'm the one that's been hit with March madness. Instead of looking at things from his point of view, I selfishly interject my own. I'm judging, and that's what's not fair, nor right. I need to remember that although his circumstances may not mirror my own (um, free food and lodging) they are his and he's probably worked through situations I'd never want to find myself in. In my fury of comebacks, I've forgotten the most important one. Grace...she sneaks in and covers fair like the first snow of the season every single time, leaving it pure and white and unblemished. No dirt, dust, tracks. Just pure loveliness covering up the ugly of fair.
Ironically, weather followed the sports update tonight. With all of the madness and unpredictability of March, the weather girl reported that snow was on the way for the higher elevations. I hope it reaches the valley as well, because maybe, just maybe, I'm up for a bit of the madness to come.
I can't even tell you the number of times the word "gracious" that I chose for this year has come back to bite me. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd isn't there such a fine line between lamenting over something that's important to us at the time, and not being grateful for life's blessings? I really do believe someone stubbing their toe is as important as my pain... comparing the two doesn't mean that the toe doesn't hurt in the moment. It's what we do AFTER the moment that matters. Lament over the toe, but then move on. Be upset about the poor NCAA seed [my UNI panthers DEFINITELY deserved better than the #9 seed we got :)] but then let it go and play your heart out. And be grateful for the ability to play.
I think it's always what comes after the moment of disappointment that shows character...