Common ground lost post-LII
As Kipling would have noted, the tumult and shouting are already fading into memories, allowing life as we knew it before these playoffs began to again command our attention with its divisiveness and distrust.
But wasn’t the respite terrific?
It was such good stuff, feeling visceral connections to people we did not know, like a stranger in a Dunkin’ Donuts line who became a kindred spirit just because his stocking hat bore a Patriots logo.
That’s all it took for us to feel a oneness with him.
Then, poof! The playoffs end and we’re back to being who we used to be, regarding one another with detachment and indifference.
But while it lasted, wasn’t it wonderful?
To borrow a line from Frederick Lerner and Alan Loewe: “Don’t let it be forgot that once there was a spot for one brief shining moment that was known as Camelot.”
That was us, living in that spot for the past four weeks, reveling in togetherness.
It was Boston. It was New England. It was urban and suburban, it was black and white, it had no philosophical leaning, and no political bent. It was simply an understanding we were all in this together, all pulling in the same direction.
“They hate us because they ain’t us.” Remember?
Sports can do that. History is filled with examples.
When court-ordered busing began here in the fall of 1975 it was widely noted by school and police officials that the Sox’ ongoing success in a torrid stretch drive provided urgently needed common ground.
When Detroit was burning down at the hands of rioters in 1968, hostilities took a timeout as residents from all demographics were shown celebrating together after the Tigers clinched the pennant.
Even North and South Korea recently agreed to stop loathing one another long enough to form a joint womens’ Olympic ice hockey team.
Civility is glorious to see, begging the question: Why does it have to end?
Do you, too, find it bothersome to see how things that theoretically matter least have more healing power than things that matter most?
Does it make you the skunk at the lawn party to realize that whether the hometown team wins or loses, bread and gas still cost the same?
Are you wrong to wonder why those who yearn for excellence in our sports aren’t clamoring for excellence in our classrooms, too?
Does it make you a killjoy to have such thoughts this morning? Probably.
So, OK, once again: Go Pats!
Now real life awaits us.