.jpg)
Sports. How I miss them. Let’s take a trip down memory lane to soften the pain we’re all feeling.
It was December 26th, 1992 and my father took me to see the Raiders play the Redskins at RFK in Washington DC. I was an annoying 10-year-old Raiders fan who lived in Virginia (still not sure how to explain my die-hard loyalty to the Raiders). During the game, I began making friends with the group of Redskins fans behind us, a group of 30-year-old men and women boozing it up, cheering for the Redskins. One of them, the particularly loud alpha male of the group, kept messing with me, all in good fun. Each time the Redskins scored or the Raiders missed a pass he'd heckle me. I, of course, dished it right back. At some point, I started having more fun bashing on him then watching the game. With 2 minutes to go, the Raiders were trailing 20-14 on our own 20-yard line. The Raiders began moving the ball into scoring position, when suddenly it happened. With 15 seconds to go, it was 4th and goal. The man, touchdown Timmy Brown, made an amazing catch and scored. The entire crowd was shocked and the stadium fell dead silent. The Redskins failed to commit the “Hail Mary”, the clock struck 0:00 and the game ended. The stadium was silent and I was stunned; I didn’t even know how to react. I turned to the man behind me and looked into his eyes. He stared back, slowly placed his beer on the ground, and wiped his hand on his pocket. With arm outstretch, he shook my hand and nodded his head for what seemed like an eternity. No words were exchanged. He was silently teaching me one of life’s greatest lessons: sportsmanship. I became a man that day, and I learned the value of respect and humility. And no, I’m not being over-dramatic; you weren’t there, so shut up.
Let’s be honest, sports are one of the backbones of being human. They bring out the best and worst in us. We are given full permission to explore all of our emotions in a safe arena. Sports also bring people together like nothing else can. Pre-pandemic, and for the past fifteen years, I’ve been playing in an organized roller hockey league (ice is too expensive, and I’m unemployed; thanks for bringing it up). I’ve become friends with people I would never would have imagined, and I’m better for it.
On a lighter note, I’ve taken the liberty of breaking down the top 7 personalities I’ve played with…enjoy.
The Nice Guy. This describes me. Let’s get the “holier than thou” out of the way first. One of my goals in life is to honor Jesus and show people how much He loves them. I’ve found the simplest way to someone’s heart is through chocolate chip cookies, or coffee cake, and maybe a little funfetti. Like a team mom (ouch), I’m the guy that’s baking brownies, cookies, or cakes and bringing them to the locker room to spread some joy. I’m also the one worried that the refs don’t like me. The need to apologize profusely for every minor infraction is my hallmark. What can I say? I’m a nice guy.
The Fighter. I’m getting into icy waters talking about this guy (you know who you are; please don’t get mad at me). The “fighter” on my team is a high-power exec who closes 2-3 million-dollar deals on a monthly basis, sings karaoke every weekend, and is more often dressed in a coat and tie. Once the puck drops, his alter ego emerges, and he’s literally out for blood. True story. Within 14 seconds of a game, he had an opponent on the ground, hitting him with the stick saying, “That’s my goalie’s crease and you stay out of it!” Say what you want, but these will be the guys showing up at your daughter’s ballet recital or bailing you out of jail (not that I’d ever go there).
The Stat Guy. This guy is a close cousin to Guy Trying to Redeem His High School Jock Status. After every shift, this teammate is asking me, “Did I get the assist? Did they score when you were on the rink or not?”. Stat guy is the guy who prints out the top scorers/points list and leaves it in his office printer for everyone to see. He’s hoping he can nonchalantly have this conversation with a co-worker: “Hey man, I’ve been averaging 2.8 points a week, no one else on this team is even close to that. You know back in high school…”. We’ve heard enough from you, bro. Move on.
Expensive Gear Guy. Sadly, this is the guy compensating for his lack of athletic ability through costly equipment. He means well, but he’s definitely trying too hard. He’s also the most likely member of the team to back his BMW into his parking spot.
The Stoner. I’ve played with a lot of these guys. It’s just part of living near the coast in California (sweet brag brah). Stoner guy is usually the most unreliable yet best player on your team. He’s the one who could care less about the game but scores all of the goals. True story. One of my teammates once was so stoned during a game that he had to ask me which way we were skating. After I answered him, he rolled onto the rink and proceeded to score 3 goals in 7 minutes. Then he looked at all of us on the bench, said he was bored, and skated off. You can’t make this up, people.
The Crier. This man is awkward. He seems put together, but when you lose the championship game, he’s the one crying in the locker room. Before the game, he was happy--marriage was good, job was steady, and everything was peachy. However, the loss of the coveted championship opened some kind of deep-seated wound, and the floodgates have opened. Maybe it’s not being able to walk away with the prize t-shirt and beer glass. I’ve never understood it, but I feel for this guy.
Honorable Mention:
The Guy who can’t yell at his boss, so he yells at the ref. The Guy Impressing Girl at a Beer League
P.S. At one point in my life, I may have been Stat Guy.
#championship cup
Vaya Con Dios.