Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Quiet Elation


“Laughin' 'cause the racket makes the blackbird sing
Like the holy terror
Suck the marrow from the bone
Singe, you're always burning books
You got the chorus and the ring”

It’s so nice when you can bring people together. That isn’t always the case, as distance and circumstance dictate our lives in so many different ways. Still, we all come together when there is a victory to celebrate. The elation of a glorious feat binds us to one another. The beauty of sport is that we can make it personal, whether we are in the stadium to witness the game or not. Celebrations that happen in our own homes and in our hearts are victories nonetheless.

This past Monday night, the stage was set for the national championship and first college football playoff game between Ohio State and Oregon. Flashback to January 2003: I was sitting at my desk in The Leader office penning a letter of intention to become the next Sports Editor of the Fredonia State paper. As a humble sophomore, I wanted nothing more than to earn this distinction and yet I felt I was really the only person fit for the job. I lived and breathed sports, especially the collegiate ones. There was a picture pinned next to my computer (the only Mac I have ever used). The glossy color photo showed quarterback Craig Krenzel, running back Maurice Clarett and head coach Jim Tressel smiling over a hoisted trophy. I had come to associate my own fate with that of my precious Buckeyes. I wanted the prize, yes. But more than that, I wanted the opportunity to grow. There weren’t any social media sites that surfaced photos of my team back then. I had to go out and purchase the local Dunkirk paper, the Sporting News and hope that the CVS would carry a copy of Sports Illustrated with the OSU champions on it. I watched the game alone in my dorm room. As Ken Dorsey hit the turf for the final time and Miami fizzled like a dying hurricane, I celebrated in quiet elation.

Flash forward to Monday night: The final score flashed across my screen and that same elated feeling zipped through my chest. Happiness cannot begin to describe the feeling I felt when the Buckeyes cruised by the Ducks. They weren’t supposed to be there in the first place. The Big 10 wasn’t supposed to represent in this first ever playoff. Where was the SEC team? But just as sports can never be completely predictable, there they were again. This time the game was in Dallas, close enough for me to actually attend.  There was Cardale Jones firing bullets to his receivers, Ezekiel Elliot rushing down the sidelines and devouring yards and Urban Meyer mastering the playbook in creative and effective ways. It was beautiful. To me, the Ohio State Buckeyes were never out of it. And so when the new era of Buckeye players hoisted that trophy, I celebrated something more than a game in my heart. It reminded me of all the quiet victories in my life, the ones no one ever sees but you feel just the same. There is nothing quite like your favorite team winning a title game. The 2014 Buckeyes won in such a feel-good way and that made the victory even sweeter. Ohio State won! The feeling never goes away as a fan. I may never sit in the Horseshoe in Columbus and watch I game. I may never come close to meeting Joey Bosa, even if he makes it big in the NFL. But what I do know is that we as fans take it personally, as if we were there. In 2003 and last Monday night, I was there. The best part is, I can look back and say that I did get my opportunity to grow, just as the young Bucks got theirs.

“Swing alone, quote the scriptures
Keep them guessing which bed you crawled from”

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Gratitude By The Numbers

“For all your goodness I will keep on singing”

Have you ever wondered what the numbers on a tennis ball signify? You almost always see the brand name (Penn, Wilson) followed by a number (typically 1-4). Are higher numbered balls used for highly skilled players? Do the lower numbers mean the balls are less bouncy? No, not at all. Those little numbers do not have any technical differences. A Wilson 1 is the same as a Wilson 2 or 3. The numbers are simply used to help players distinguish their tennis balls from another’s in a multi-court environment. It helps players identify which balls belong to which court when shots are hit astray. It makes sense to number the balls, but I sometimes feel tennis ball manufacturers should be more creative with their distinguishing features. The numbering system seems so unoriginal and dated. The fact remains that all tennis balls are the same, and yet many players still have their preferences for brand and number (I was partial to Wilson 2’s for many years).

With Thanksgiving approaching, it’s easy to distinguish the things for which we should give thanks. But aren’t all blessings, like the tennis balls, the same? Should we not be equally thankful for the little things as well as the big things in life? This year, I have so many wonderful things to be thankful for:  a rewarding job, a new car, a healthy family, cheerful friends, a loving and supportive fiancé, a safe home and a future that I am looking forward to more than anything else. These blessings have rolled onto my court and found their way into my hands, many without my asking or deserving. Like the numbered tennis balls, the things I am thankful for this year are made of the same “stuff”. They are all important and all serve to bring about joy and peace in my life. I can easily distinguish each blessing from another one, but there are no differences beyond the outside identifiers. Inside my heart is where they are equally aligned. I hope you feel the same way this Thanksgiving, and throughout the year. Always let thankfulness be a part of your game.

“Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find”

Monday, October 6, 2014

Choices


“Did you ever have to make up your mind?”

It’s good to have choices in life, but choosing something based on one factor or motive may or may not lead to a desirable outcome.  This week I find myself selecting a wedding venue with my fiancé. I keep secretly hoping one with a tennis court will show up to make my decision twenty times easier. I can’t help but draw comparisons between wedding planning and another transitory period of my life: graduating from high school and choosing a college.

I recall making tennis my “x-factor” in my final college decision-making process. I knew two things back in high school when I was choosing which college I would attend: that I wanted to play tennis and study sports management. Which school offered me the best chance to be a part of a team? Which one presented the most attractive overall program? What university would allow me to play at my highest level? What could I afford, and guarantee a quality education to boot? If only choosing the right venue for my wedding worked in a similar manner. This engagement period is just like senior year. There is a huge lead-in (hints of a ring) and when you finally arrive at that “senior” status (I’m engaged, he proposed!) the excitement carries you through several months. The planning begins immediately for the future when you enter senior year. Where will I go to college and what will I study? Will I be able to play tennis and get a scholarship? You start visiting colleges and making lists. In the engagement scenario, it’s much of the same. Once the phone calls die down and news spreads throughout the office, it’s time to get out the old pen and paper and start listing Pros and Cons for every venue. Which one offers photography and do any include catering in the package? What venues can I see myself falling in love with time and time again when I look back at that big day?

I chose Fredonia State University as my undergraduate college because it had the most personality. Looking back, I could have chosen any of the schools I applied to because I was accepted at all of them (just as I can choose any venue, so long as they have a date in March when we are planning to wed). I could have gone to Niagara University on scholarship and played on the tennis team. I could have stayed close to home and saved on room and board, while very likely making the team as a walk-on. But I chose FSU because that was the school where I knew I could play my best tennis, receive an education and experience life away from home. I was sold on the personality of the campus, and my first meeting with the tennis coach sealed my decision. Tennis was the selling point in my heart. It’s the same way when choosing my wedding venue. My fiancé and I are traditionalists. We want a place that offers us the chance to bring out that part of our personalities. We want a place that mixes well with our own personalities. We’re also romantics, who know that whatever choice we make will create a special occasion. I’m not sure what our x-factor is. It certainly could be tennis, as impractical as it sounds. But I think deep down the two of us know the decision will come down to what venue displays the best personality. It’s such a great feeling when you finally make that choice. I remember declaring my college for the first time and writing my name inside my tennis bag with a Fredonia sticker on it. Big choices demand relief, and that is how I will feel when we arrive at our decision. In the meantime, it’s time to enjoy the tennis of October with the man I love. Now that's an easy choice.

“Say yes to one and let the other one ride…”

Monday, September 15, 2014

Flirting With Perfection

“The vacancy that sat in my heart is a space that now you hold”

Six months ago, a young man from Plano, Texas asked my parents if he could court me. I thought that gesture was the perfect introduction for my parents to the man I had come to adore in the short time we had known each other. It wasn’t long at all before I discovered how perfect this man was for me. The first time I challenged him to a tennis match, he accepted.  He may have regretted that decision initially, though his confidence was soaring when the score read “love-love”. I flirted with perfection in that match, nearly defeating him 6-0, 6-0. He did manage one game off of me, an impressive feat considering he hadn’t actually taken a single tennis lesson his entire life. On the other side of the court, I had toiled since age seven through tennis lessons, camps, clinics and competitions. After our first match, I realized I had created a monster, or fueled the competitive monster within him. It was a good monster though; the kind that gets his kicks on the tennis court and stays in line when off the court. He’s one of the “good” ones.  I’m certain he’s a keeper.  I finally have the perfect partner in all things and our future together is an auspicious one.

A rally is a sequence of shots within a point.  The completion of a point changes the score. There are short rallies in life where we feel a slow rise to the top, only to later discover it was a momentary high.  The score may change, but it’s not the ideal outcome. Other rallies end suddenly or slowly in defeat, leaving us dejected and discouraged. Rallies are difficult to sustain. Before I met Robert, I wondered if I could stay the course. I had fallen short of the perfect rally many times before. I had bailed early or not early enough. Sometimes I rallied persistently but was easily victorious over a non-pursuing opponent. More often, I walked away from the courts and rallies that had no signs of persisting.  The returns were too shallow to sustain.

God brought Robert into my life in such an unpredictable and unexpected way. It was as if our Lord had disguised and planted the perfect drop-shot in my court, and I had to rush to meet it. I did meet it, with a rally I had never known could persist so fully. Robert is persistent. This persistence is what initially drew me to him, though having dimples certainly helped his case. He persistently works on his serve and reminds me a lot of myself in his approach to the game. It’s refreshing to know there is another like-minded tennis stickler out there. Robert is gaining ground on me. His persistent game is perfecting itself with each match. I love watching him rally with me. I even hope he defeats me one day because with him, I can never truly lose. That’s why he’s the perfect opponent no matter what the score.

Robert’s rallies are the kind that can last forever. They’re as engaging and fetching as he is. One of the first memories I have of him is his charming, well-intentioned and successful attempt to extend our second date into a six hour affair. He is so adept and savvy when it comes to life’s important moments beyond the baseline. On the court, he challenges my return of serve and backhand slice. Robert brings a kind of rhythm to my game (he even dances to music on the court when prompted) and puts the beat in my heart over and over again. Robert is also a wealth of knowledge and is constantly trying to improve his game by observing the pros (always an admirable quality in the best of tennis players and people). He invests his heart into everything and this is perhaps what I love most about him.

The Lord has constructed us the perfect rally, a complementary give and take relationship both on and off the court. As God’s children, we can’t often see His ways early in the game. The first set is not always an indication of the final result. It’s rare to establish “court” in the first set. Though, somehow, someway, that set comes along where we flirt with perfection and just know what the final result will indicate. God’s ways are always perfect and I feel as if I am flirting with perfection when Robert and I take the court. The rallies that sustain and persist are the ones that hold the most meaning. The indefectible, perfect ones. The sequences of shots that don’t reflect in the score but still completely changes you are the ones to embrace in this life.

“Just know that I’m always parallel on the other side”

Thursday, September 4, 2014

A Point to Ponder


“You may not know this, but you are everything you ever needed”

Imagine for a moment you’re behind in a tennis game, about to be broken on serve, with the score reading 30-40. You serve up an ace to knot the score at deuce and fight off the break chance. Imagine doing this repeatedly throughout a match. Every time you get close to going down a break, it’s you who strikes back. There are some players who continually fend off break points, and win matches by a hair. What is it that lifts them up in those moments and keeps them from losing it? I think it’s the same stamina, perseverance and will that propel us through life’s near breaks. Do you ponder these points only when you are forced to withstand them, or do you actively seek to avoid such pivotal situations?

I like to think as the great Yankee Yogi Berra did: “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over” is a great catchphrase for the positive, persevering mind. I often wonder if we truly believe that though. Yesterday I was watching Serena Williams topple Flavia Pennetta in the U.S. Open quarterfinal. Williams all but had the match in the bag after the first few games of the second set even though the match wasn’t officially in the books. How do we determine the point where we can no longer fend off a break? Have you ever stood by as someone’s life completely fell apart, point after point? Some of the time, there is more than meets the eye. Underneath the surface of our lives, of our serves, often lies the inability to fend off the break. You can come out on the other side knotted at deuce, avoid the situation entirely or declare it over before the end begins. The outcome is all in what you believe, and that is the main point to ponder.

“But we’ll come back alive, ‘cause only the strong survive”

Monday, August 18, 2014

The Injured Player's Predicament


“I’ll mend myself before it gets me”

With today’s news of defending champion, Raphael Nadal’s withdrawal from the U.S. Open, it makes sense to talk tennis injuries. Injuries are inevitable in sport. The human body can only take so much wear and tear before it breaks down. Conditioning can help reduce the risk of injury in many cases. But even the fittest athletes suffer ailments from overuse, mechanical breakdowns and freak accidents. Nadal’s aggravated right wrist is a setback for fans who were hoping to see another Novak/Nadal showdown. Roger Federer will certainly benefit from his rival’s withdrawal. Federer, the favorite, will land the number two seed in the tournament.  Rafa’s absence also opens up the field for other talented players on the men’s side.

Nadal is a warrior, with violent and stabbing groundstrokes. Tennis is a sport where injuries cannot be taken lightly, where players cannot just shake or brush off the pain. The wrist, elbow and forearm are valuable and delicate essentials in the sport of tennis. Baseball, hockey and basketball players may suffer wrist pain or elbow injuries and still be able to participate. But at what cost is an injury more of a serious pitfall than losing court, ice or turf time?  Professional and college players have the advantage of staff physicians to advise them whether to play or rest. The casual sports participant does not always have the wherewithal to nurse an injury, and so the injured player’s dilemma often ensues. I have been in this boat many times. Most recently, I have suffered a stabbing, sharp pain to my shoulder and neck following heavy hitting sessions. I love tennis and have been far too stubborn to rest what I believe is a reactivated pinched nerve. At what point should we “club players” withdraw from the sports we love so much? Do you have more to lose by withdrawing?

Obviously, the answer lies in the extent of the injury. It is not smart to play through an injury that could escalate into something more severe with permanent damage. Only you can know your body, and each athlete responds differently to injuries. Be smart. Pride should not be a reason you continue playing when injured. If only I could take my own advice…or a cue from Mr. Nadal.

“I’m fallen down but I’ll rise above this”

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Trophies


“..and mirrors of success reflect in me”

A trophy is a reward of evidence and recognition for a specific accomplishment. They are symbols of victory and merit. Trophies are most often handed out to the winners of sporting events. Seldom few elite tennis players rise through the ranks without being recipients of at least a few trophies along the way. Their trophies are nothing more than prizes, an endgame for the work that produced recognition.

My first trophy was awarded to me as an eleven-year-old Little Leaguer. As a group, our Phillies softball team earned the trophy for the Major Girls’ title. The golden-colored softball player that stands on top of the marble platform is a symbol specific to the sport of softball. It is symbolic of hard work and effort. Not every Little Leaguer receives a trophy just for showing up to the ball field every game. No, the trophies are dedicated to those few who accomplish victory. But some of us are victorious in other ways, in ways that don’t always warrant a trophy. Trophies are designed for winners, but the real reward comes long after the trophy begins collecting dust.

What would your life’s trophy look like? Our true contributions, the ones that touch people’s lives, most often go unrecognized. Has someone ever “won you over” without a trophy? There are folks who never know their effort has produced a winner. Think about all these intangible actions for a moment: A smile or understanding gaze. A few words spoken to change someone’s mind. The silent prayers. The friend who gives gracefully. Battlefield soldiers long forgotten in good season. Relationships joined together without proof or reason.  It’s so easy to declare a winner in sports. The tennis player who tallies the highest amount of games will earn that trophy. The player who prevails always receives the highest recognition.  There are accomplishments in life too. Merit awards. Talent trophies. Career recognitions. These symbols are all very special, but I argue the most important trophy of all is the one no ever places on a mantle. The trophy unseen, the one earned not just by tangible contributions, is the true reward.

“…I’m that star up in the sky”