Sports thoughts
It was a normal day, stop at the Chevron on Avenue B, spill coffee on myself before I get to the freeway. Travel the 40 miles to Antelope, practice, big game against Orme Ranch on Friday.
But this Tuesday was different than any other Tuesday in my life. This was not a normal Tuesday, it was a day of infamy. A day when we all knew exactly where we were at the time. On Nov. 22, 1963, I was in the hall of my junior high when President Kennedy was assassinated. On Sept. 11, 2001, I was at a convenience store when the Towers were struck.
Emotions began to explode through my body at the same time — anger, horror, compassion, helplessness, fear and confusion. Watching the first Tower fall only heightened my senses. The rest of the trip to work was a blur.
Classes went on as normal with the exception of the radio reports being sent to every room. Football practice for me can be described as a man in a trance. “Good catch, bad block, you’ve got to hustle more on special teams.” They were words that had no meaning.
Tuesday night I rushed home and was glued to the TV screen. Unfortunately a few too many drinks made extra tears run down my face. I couldn’t control it as the horror of the aftermath was repeated over and over again — “God, please let them find a few more”.
Wednesday morning a little foggy, but filled with resolve. The only question was, America is under attack, do we play on Friday night or cancel? How trivial a question to be asked when our nation is under siege, but one that was asked by thousands across the country.
My question was answered on Wednesday by school board President Robbie Woodhouse. I met him just outside the district office. I knew he knew what the first words out of my mouth would be. “Robbie, do we play Friday night?” Without hesitation and as quick as instant coffee, he said, “John, Antelope plays on Friday night.” My response was, “Thank you, partner.” Healing and strength went
in to one’s body.
Wednesday night, again glued to the screen, but this time I stood up and cheered as I saw every state in our union sending firemen, police and emergency workers to New York City. Their state flags waving in the breeze next to Old Glory. The President assuring the nation that we will punish “the evil doers” and we will become stronger through catastrophe.
This is a sports column and I want to describe the tragedy in those terms. The Heavyweight Champion of the World has been sucker punched after the bell had rung. He staggers back to his corner, dazed, confused, and sits on his stool. After clearing his head, the bell rings for round two. “Do not awake the sleeping giant.” Hell, fury and resolve are unloaded on the cowardly opponent.
Friday night, “Where can we find an American flag, we’ve got to get one just like everyone else.” This came from the players, so we borrowed the one from the district office. The captain charged out with Stars and Stripes rippling in the breeze, followed by 30 players with flag emblems on their helmets.
I think we won, didn’t matter. What mattered was the playing of the Star Spangled Banner before the game. If you think I was the only one with tears rolling down my cheeks, I have some swampland for you in Florida.
This is the greatest nation in the world. We have the greatest athletes on the planet. We have more freedoms and live as “one nation under God.” President Lincoln was right, “a house divided cannot stand.” I think all sports fans should repeat that daily.
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