The benefits of sports for young and old are abundant and clear.
First up, of course, are physical recreation and pleasure. The 9-year-old soccer goalie, the high school sophomore who makes the baseball team, the volleyball player who wins a spot on her college team, the 30-year-old man who’s playing on his church’s softball team, the 60-year-old dentist who runs 5Ks several times every year: All these individuals—and there are millions of them—are getting exercise that sets the heart pounding, builds muscle, and keeps them fit in body and mind. Most of them also take delight in these activities.
Then, there’s the vicarious pleasure of watching athletes shine on the playing fields and courts. That mom who cheers on her teenage daughter during a field hockey contest and that guy baying encouragement at his wide-screen television set for his beloved Green Bay Packers are both snatched, however momentarily, from the stresses and storms of contemporary events and workplace worries.
Americans, like many people around the world, have long loved such contests.
First, a Confession
These days, unless an athletic contest involves my grandchildren, I’m not a sports guy. I last took an interest in the Olympics in 1976, when the judges, most of them from communist countries, denied U.S. boxers their victories. Since my late 20s, I haven’t followed professional football or NCAA basketball. I don’t remember the last time I watched a Super Bowl.In high school, I ran cross-country and played football my senior year. Because I went to a military college for 18 months, I boxed, wrestled, played intramural football and lacrosse, and practiced swimming and gymnastics.
Work, a growing family, and other obligations and interests led to my diminished interest in sports.
But the weekend of March 19 found me in Fort Wayne, Indiana, at the NCAA Division III Final Four in men’s basketball. Randolph-Macon College (RMC) had won a spot in this contest, and my friend John, an ardent fan, asked me to accompany him to this event. Though I cared little about RMC or basketball, I took him up on his offer for friendship’s sake and made the 10-hour drive to Fort Wayne.
Comradery
On the sweatshirts worn by the RMC players over their uniforms off the court was the logo “Family.”And as I watched them play that weekend, blowing out their opponents, it struck me that those guys seemed like a family. They frequently gave one another hugs or high fives, the players on the bench shouted out encouragement to those in the game, and all of them listened intently to their coach during the timeouts.
The fans in the bleachers exhibited this same sense of family. Many of them were old and gray, and some had played sports at RMC, but all of them, including a woman who had traveled from Italy, were ardent in their support of the team. Those players had drawn them together, given them a common cause and a weekend to touch base with memories that meant so much to them.
“They‘ll watch the game and it’ll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. ... The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it’s a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and it could be again.”
Getting Along
We hear much these days that America is systemically racist, that blacks and whites, in particular, are as divided one from the other as the light-years separating the stars in the night sky.Not on this team.
Near the end of the game, when their high score proclaimed RMC the winners, the starting players, black and white, hugged the other players, black and white, as they came off the court. These weren’t perfunctory “let’s bump shoulders” hugs. No—these were the deeply felt embraces of young men who profoundly appreciated and loved their fellow teammates.
Wins and Losses
On the old television show “Wide World of Sports,” announcer Jim McKay became well-known for his introductory comment, “The thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat.”Athletes of all stripes, however well they performed, will carry the memories of their competitions for the rest of their lives. The boy who won a tennis championship his senior year in high school and the striker who drilled scores of points into the goal during her time on the soccer field will remember and treasure their individual triumphs, and make use of those accomplishments in adulthood.
And those who failed, if they’re wise, learn lessons as well. They learn grit and endurance. They study their mistakes and work to correct them. They take responsibility when they let down the team and themselves. And they persevere.
Thank You
In Fort Wayne, I realized that sports embody the American Way: individual talent, team play, the recognition of excellence, the clear-cut chance to succeed or fail, rules of the game, fair play, honor, and respect. Whether the fans and players know it or not, their participation in games, not just championships like the one in Indiana but in all such contests, is an affirmation of the goodness of their country and its ideals.As I said earlier, my interest in sports regrettably vanished long ago. But to all you players and fans out there, know that your love of games and contests helps to keep you and the rest of us sane in a world gone mad. You remind us, as Terence Mann said, “of all that was once good and could be again.”
