American culture, American People., Culture, faith, family, Life, Logic, motivation, philosphy, pop culture, psychology, Society & Culture, Sports, Uncategorized

We Hope for Baseball

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The collective emotional roller coaster our homes, communities, states, nations and world have experience over the past week cannot be quantified with words.

But damn if it’s not like me to try. Leave it to a pandemic for me to sit down and type my first entry in so long I cannot recall.

The world around us moved so fast last Wednesday that it seemed unreal. The NBA was suspending its season?

Huh.

Thursday saw universities shuttered, college basketball conference tournaments cancelled, high schools move to eLearning.

Um, what?

Friday felt like the bottom fell out, the cancellation of the NCAA Tournament, a new kind of March Madness. Spring sports cancelled – including the College World Series in June – throwing eligibility questions and team rosters for the 2020-21 season into a quagmire that didn’t feel so giggity giggity.

And we thought the news was all filled with doom and gloom before?

I told my wife Friday afternoon that my brain hurt. I couldn’t comprehend much more that day, think of any more angles to cover or next steps after the next steps. I needed wine tequila and a hoodie.

2020 will be forever remembered as when “Social Distancing” became apart of the American lexicon, when everyone from the age of two to 92 could recite proper hand washing protocols.

It will be remembered when we learned everything in our economy is connected, that an essential freeze halted us in our tracks. We quarantined, we worked from home. We overreacted, we under-reacted.

We hoarded toilet paper.

Everything has effectively been put on hold. Youth sports, book clubs. Going out to dinner, a family cookout with grandparents. Spring break. Every Disney Park closed for weeks, every zoo and museum closed. No choir concerts, no parades, no church in person, no events really of any kind.

Everything. Has. Stopped.

But have we learned?

Nothing we didn’t already know.

That faith, hope and love are some good things He gave us, and while the greatest is love, the most important might be hope.

We need to hope we can get back to normal before July. Before June.

We’re holding out hope for high school baseball in our home state. My son, a senior, is a part of a team that won a state championship last season. His friends from his travel teams, scattered across the state, all want the chance to play before college. Most won’t get a chance to play in college, but it is not about that specifically.

It’s about Senior Night. It’s about Prom. It’s about hearing your name called for the final time. Crossing the stage with a diploma at graduation and graduation parties of definitely more than 10 people.

It’s about all we’ve taken for granted. The commute to work filled with podcasts that have fresh content about sports, movies, politics, whatever. Seeing our co-workers, sitting face-to-face in meetings, teaching in a classroom filled with people.

It’s been merely a week, and even the introverts like me don’t think we really understood how significant social distancing could be to the fabric of what it is to be American.

Maybe this is a chance to re-learn, to re-think the daily life and throw our routines out of whack. Are we adaptable? Are we unbeatable? Can we turn a negative, a 100 negatives, into a positive? Are we just catch phrases, or can we rise to the challenge and endure?

We’re always taking about how busy we are (I’m looking at, well, all of us).

Well, how about now? Time to read. Time to listen. Time to think. To take a walk. To get to know our spouses and kids again. To find a way to serve a purpose greater than ourselves.

Maybe this is our wake-up call.

What is truly important, and what is not.

Sure, we’ve clung tight to family. Personally, we haven’t turned into The Shining family around here…yet. And we appreciate our home, our jobs, our friends and our freedoms.

But hope, man.

Hope might be the most fascinatingly human emotion there has ever been. And we need it more than ever.

No matter your beliefs, your political allegiances, whether you call this a hoax or are digging your doomsday bunker as I type, this is history happening for better of worse in real time.

It is a stark reminder we are not in control, not even a little bit, not even at all. But like any good book or movie (that we’ve all probably re-watched or re-read three times by now), hope is a good thing.

It could be the hope we’ll stop losing our ever-loving minds. Hope that those who aren’t taking it serious will wake up to the fact that COVID-19 is a bit more threatening than we thought a week ago, or even a day ago.

Hope is why Hallmark is running Christmas movies in March. It’s why Disney+ put Frozen II up months before they were supposed to. It is why classic sports re-runs are a welcome distraction. Why Tom Brady going to Tampa Bay and leaving New England was something else to talk about for a few hours.

Because we do not know where this going. We do not know the impact on the economy, on our jobs, on our daily lives yet. And we won’t fully for some time.

But we hope.

We hope for the sick, we hope for the cure, for strong leadership, for our friends, for our industries, for our kids.

We hope for an appreciation of the life we lived two weeks ago and for a future that might be close to it.

So, yes, we hope for baseball in this house. And we hold out that hope, because without it, well, it just makes the brain hurt.

Stay safe. Stay informed. Stay good to each other.

Stay hopeful.

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American culture

Please, Be Kind

Staring into the abyss of another horrific news story, where someone senselessly killed nine others, I’ve nearly ran out of words.

A few years ago, the direction of my writing changed significantly, from sports-related material to pieces that tried to peel back the layers of everyday life and made sense of the world around us.

Most posts are not nearly as funny and entertaining as they once were. I’ve been told that my writing is “too real” and “too heavy” – comments that are understandable. I’d like to believe I’ve grown a bit since I began writing as a career-slash-hobby over 10 years ago. My wife has changed me, my children have changed me. Life changed me.

It was around the time that a Kansas City Chiefs player, Javon Belcher, committed a murder-suicide a few years ago that I suddenly found it less important to debate the greatness of athletes.

The blinders came off and I starting seeing things differently. The outcomes of sporting events and the world within the world of sports that debates stats, stadium funding and “who’s better” seem to matter little now in the grand scheme of life.

Yet I understand the need for others – and myself – to use them as an escape. We need it, we truly do. Sports are a drug for some of us, an emotional high we use to distract us from the problems of our life and the world around us.

When a game is going on, we are thrust into a temporary reality where all that matters is scoring more than the other guys, having stamina, determination, grit and belief. The scoreboard is clear with the outcome. And there is always – always – another chance.

Life doesn’t really work like that. Bills must be paid, jobs must be worked. If you lose a partner, a friend, a family member to death, there is no next season. So sports serve a finite purpose in this world, as do movies, music and television.

Those who know me well know that I am a Disney World fanatic and a Marvel films junkie. These are my distractions. We all have them, and for the most part, that’s perfectly fine.

Except I wonder how far our fantasies will take us? How far have they already gone in creating a society of people who turn further and further away from the problems at hand – in their lives and the larger world in general?

If we are constantly distracting ourselves, then really, in time, life becomes the distraction, the thing we can’t be bothered with because it’s taking our attention away from what we’ve filled our time with.

To everything, there is a season. And sometimes, it’s not social hour. Sometimes, it’s not fun. Sometimes, work has to be done.

We seem to having difficulty with that last one.

The world has always been full of lunacy, of evil intent. But have we ever seemed so indifferent?

As Jon Stewart suggested on “The Daily Show” last night, we’ve gone to war on terrorism. We’ve invaded countries all over the globe to defend freedom and Americans. We’ve lost soldiers in this battle. And yet, what we do and can do to each other in our own country is worse.

Think of all the wars the world has seen. Think of what we are meant to stand for, what the principles of this country are founded upon. And we can’t even be nice to fellow Americans.

We say that these incidents are isolated, that the people conducting these atrocities are “crazy” or that they are racist, or fanatical or whatever. We want to blame guns. We want to blame drugs. We want to blame the culture or the upbringing or whatever.

But we’re all Americans. We’re all human. And we’re doing these things to ourselves.

The media will find a way to turn this into ratings and “debate” several things in the wake of the Charleston, South Carolina church shooting. They will debate old issues, unresolved issues, issues that shouldn’t be issues.

But none of it will change.

The coming presidential election, as most are, will be defined by something that has very little to do with the actual direction of the country. Truth is, we don’t “debate” anything anymore. There are fewer and fewer civilized conversations because neither side, neither party, is willing to admit that the other has a good point – or that they could be (GASP!) wrong.

We’re a bunch of miniature dictators that think we know what’s best for the other 300 million people in our country – and really – for billions around the world.

But honestly, we have very few answers. Look around. We’re a mess in our families, our relationships, our jobs and yet we wonder why others in our nation can do the kind of heinous things that are happening from coast to coast?

We are lazy, intolerant and rude. Worst of all, we’re uniformed by the same medium that promotes the very things that scare us back to reality for a few days.

The older I have the good fortune of becoming, I realize that it is true: everything I really need to know I learned at a very young age.

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Be nice. Be kind. Share. Don’t hit people. Don’t say mean things. Apologize when you do something wrong. Clean up your own mess. Wash your hands. Put things back where you found them. Respect others. Watch out for traffic. Think and learn and play and draw.

Why is this so hard? Why do we complicate these things? I’m running out of words because no matter how complex the issue or the situation, no amount of nuance can mask the simple fact that these are the answers.

They have always been the answers.

We treat ourselves, our problems, our dramas with such reverence, as if they matter more than being kind. I want to believe that people can change people. I want to believe that we’re willing to look past our differences to co-exist.

But we just keep repeating ourselves in the same horrible, unconscionable fashion every few days, weeks or months – which is making it much, much harder for me to keep repeating myself in my writing.

The only words I’ve got left right now are these:

Be kind.

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