I've had a pit in my stomach all week long.
I've been unsettled- knowing that it was inevitable.
I knew it wasn't going to be easy, pehaps the hardest battle we've had to face.
So, there John and I sat, forced to be closer together than we would have chosen.
Occasionally one of us would stand up and yell - or scream.
It was almost impossible to try to listen to each other.
My hands shook, my heart raced - I actually fought tears.
You could cut the tension with a knife.
I knew he was struggling in the same way.
And yet, we still slapped at each other.
Yes, it did turn out to be just as hard as we thought it would be,
but, in the end the victory was ours
- to share -
with the other 59,000 people surrounding us.
Alright, I know the above sounds overly dramatic, and I almost feel like I should apologize for the intensity of it all. The whole thing is a bit of a mystery to me, this love for a game - a passion that can affect my emotions in such a powerful way. It's unlike anything else that I can compare it to. It is just a game, just a sport - nothing that I believe God takes an active interest in (outside of His interest in each individual player/coach) - so it's not a matter of faith or praying or anything eternal. It is not a relationship that I can talk it though, or just communicate, in fact it is completely out of my control (outside of contributing to a decibel level equaling that of a jet take-off). It is an extremely temporary activity, in the grand scheme of things. But, somehow, to John and I, it has become something of high significance to us - at least as far as the entertainment facet of our life. Our comments, feelings, and actions almost identically mirrored each other today - as they have pertaining to this game all week.
I believe it will be the best and most memorable game we will have ever watched. Never have we witnessed a match-up of such high rankings, and the ramifications are huge. It is a conflicting thing for me to want something so bad and know that I could be let down, and try to deal with how to sort through that. Do I believe we can make this thing happen, only to be so let down, do I be a pessimist (which is just not me right now), or, as it was today, do I simply hold my breath for 3 and a half hours, hoping beyond hope? Today, the hope was realized, final score: 24-17, UO over the Mighty USC Trojans......
The Whites and us crunched the leaves loudly as we returned to our vehicle, and I commented that I wanted to absorb every possible sense - it was a perfect football day made even sweeter by the joy our kids experienced carving pumpkins and playing backyard touch football with Grandpa and Grandma back at home. I will remember today for a very long time -
This makes me laugh. Not becuase I do not understand passion for something. I do and I loved your entry. BUT - I do not relate at all to the passion over football. I'm so glad they won and you enjoyed it:-).
ReplyDeleteI can't agree more, Stephie. Now, I am sitting here dreading this weekend's game against ASU. I totally relate, and am so glad that Travie and I sit by you guys during the games. The looks you turn around and give me are hysterical! GO DUCKS!
ReplyDeleteThe funny thing is, Colie, up until 1997, I never felt that way either. I think that makes it even more fun for me, as it's taken me by surprise.
ReplyDeleteAnd, some of the looks Steph is referring to are regarding the antics of our "neighbors" - folks with nicknames such as "Titanic Lady" (not a reference to weight- it's the stance she often takes spreading her arms out down by the wall), "Snacks", and "JSL" that keep us all smiling. But, last week, there were plenty of looks of plain old relief and happiness!