Recently I was invited to a local minor league baseball game by a friend. There were about twelve of us up in the air conditioned luxury of the third floor "sky suite". I couldn't stand not being in the fresh air and wandered out the door and into the seats. As night fell over the field, the players fought on while we in the box socialized, ate and drank. The game, the stadium and the loyal fans in the regular seats were a fascinating backdrop to the small party. In the few moments I had to myself to actually watch the game, I felt guilt that I wasn't as engaged as I should be. Not, that I should have been watching the game the entire time, but rather that I was spending more time worrying about how the players were feeling than the score. This has always been a problem for me when it comes to sports. I often watch a game, or a performance and spend the majority of the time wondering how the players, their parents/wives/boyfriends feel and completely missing the beauty of the performance.
Of course, watching the minor leagues brings this out of me because I feel sorry for the guys that are trying to make it to the big time. They are dreaming the dream and every game is an opportunity to prove their worth and move up. Sitting in Sky Suite 32 that evening, I was torn between enjoying the unique experience I had been given and worrying about the miriad of ways the the guys on the field could be unhappy. At some point in the evening, past my usual early bedtime, I ran out of worry. I just let go and let the cool night breeze ruffle my hair as I watched the sky turn from sunlit blue to the deep purple of twilight, the players race across the ethereal lines of recently mowed grass, and the mascot leap and dance for laughter and applause. It was magical.
So, the lesson for the week is to enjoy the unique opportunities that come along and put the worrying to bed until it has a purpose because you never know when the magic is going to happen.
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