Contests in Context

Today I watched the local high school girls play in the quarterfinals of the state tournament. Unfortunately, they were not victorious.

And I know why. You might think it was because that when the clock ran out, the other team had scored more points than they did, but that shows how little you know. I know why they did not win.

They did not win because they did not pay attention to the fellow seated directly behind me. He knew more about passing than anybody on the floor. He knew more about defense. He knew more about setting up an offense. He knew more about shooting. He knew more about rebounding, dribbling, setting a pick, coaching and officiating (and judging from the crowd on both sides, he was not alone in that knowledge).

He probably knew more about public address announcing, although he did not have the opportunity to say so. He may or may not have known more about giving birth than did the girls playing ball on the floor, but I am certain that he would not have let any of those young women enter the delivery room without every possible piece of advice he had on the matter.

I now know more about basketball than anyone else in that arena this afternoon, because I sat in front of him. I kept waiting for a lull in the lecture so I could get an idea of what he looked like, but do so without seeming to be looking at him when he commented. That lull occurred at about the 0:00 mark of the fourth quarter.

Now, every fan who pays for a ticket gets to have an opinion. But this advice was offered with, shall we say, some decided intensity. My teacher seemed offended by the inexpert play, coaching and officiating that he saw, as though each error was a personal affront to him or something he held dear. And I just kept thinking: Aren't these kids?

Aren't they 15, 16 and 17, maybe 18 years old? Aren't they playing a game as a team representing their high school? Aren't they still learning things? Why would we expect them to drive the lane any better than they drive cars? Why would we expect them to play to perfection what multi-millionaire professionals still practice every day to get right?

And why oh why oh why would we lay upon their shoulders the burden of our feelings about our community? This is a fine little town, and it remained a fine little town after the unhappy result at the final horn. I feel badly for the young ladies and I'm disappointed that I don't get to cheer a winner through a state title, but disgusted? Angry? Offended?

Nah. I graduated from high school a long time ago, and it wasn't even this one, so whatever achievements its students make or don't make matter a whole lot more to them than they do to me. Because those young people matter to me, I can be disappointed for them and sympathize with their feelings about their loss. But greater things await them, and we might hope they will have their eyes upon those things when they arrive, rather than be buried back in their pasts, so invested in the things of yesterday that they lack all real perspective about what goes on today.