Two weeks ago, Kelly and I went to the UNC-Clemson basketball game. Early in the first half Tyler Hansbrough, UNC's Mr. All-Galaxy center, went to the free-throw line and a hush fell over the crowd.
And for a moment, it was as if the veil was lifted and I could see through all of it, how disturbingly contrived this whole experience was. Ten 18-22 year olds were running around a hardwood floor in a glorified gymnasium. Rules about this game had been developed over several decades and had been modified from time to time to ensure a more engaging spectator event.
And there were millions of dollars in revenue and cheerleading outfits and band practices and marketing strategies and corporate sponsorships and game apparel and travel expenses and ticket prices and restaurants and buses and facepaint and angst and outrage and joy and tribulation and pain and sadness and hope all built around ten 18-22 year olds running around on hardwood floors within the contrived limits of the rules of this contrived game.
And around me were grown people who spent $45 per seat in order to spend the game yelling at 18-22 year olds about their lack of basketball playing ability or at the refs for their lack of sound judgment.
These were people who were here night after night, their lives were built around sitting in this nosebleed section. Or when they were not here, they were gazing at stats on the internet or chatting about it at work or calling up sports talk radio shows and/or otherwise building their lives around 18-22 year olds, running around on a hardwood floor, under a contrived set of rules created in order to make it a more engaging spectator sport, in order to make lots of someones a lot of money, all housed in this super-sized gymnasium,
Normally I laugh these grown, irrationally opinionated people off, but not in this moment. This moment I realized it would be funny if it weren't so tragic.
Hansbrough (as is his wont) made the free throw. We all cheered.
I leaned over to Kelly and whispered, "Sixteen thousand grown-ups just held their breath while a 22-year-old shot a basketball." She nodded. Later she told me that the same veil had been lifted for her at the same moment.
Fortunately for me, I was able to pull the veil back down and enter into the glorious bliss of feigned ignorance. We won. Clemson still hasn't beat us in 54 (55?) tries here in Chapel Hill. Orange is still ugly. Go Heels.
Later Kelly told me that the veil didn't go back down quite so easily for her. Her un-ease about the contrivedness of the whole event stuck with her...and try as I might, it's kind of stuck with me, too.
I just finished watching UNC polish off Maryland (a tasty dish, no one's fearing the turtle this year, I don't think) and I'm glad that we won. But I'm wondering about the power that's been given over in my little corner of the world (and in my own heart) to five 18-22 year olds running up and down a glorified gymnasium, under contrived rules, developed to create a better spectator experience, in order to make a lot of someones a lot of money.
5 comments:
Orange is NOT ugly, at least not the TN kind. But I have felt the same way about college football lately. Still, many college football players will tell you that the business of sports got them an education that they may not have afforded otherwise. Of course, that is only in the lower tiers where the players have to do something other than play sports once they graduate!
You wouldn't perchance have been reading Ecclesiastes lately? Similar view of the world!
I'm sure some folks take it all way too far, but I think sport in general is a more wholesome distraction, especially for the young, than a lot of the alternatives out there...
My first year at Duke in many ways has centered around the joys of Cameron Indoor. And I can honestly say that I find myself learning life lessons by watching young adults try to play life on the hardwood (seriously, Scripture uses so many athletic metaphors). But it becomes quite a different experience as I think about idolatry. How many times do I have to wonder the degree to which my blue devils order my day, my schedule and my time above other things that God has called me to? And also, given that the Dvinity School is filled with folks who attended ACC schools or where many are NC-based diedhard fans--how many of us put our identity in that name or team to where we put it above the Gospel and the reconciling message of the Gospel? For instance, since I've come to see that Carolina isn't so bad--that it is a good school despite what childhood propaganda tells me, then I love my brothers and sisters better. Will my Christian brother or sister comfort me or give me space when a team that I love loses? Will they cut me down when we win? Will I be willing to do the same? And when so much violence occurs around the world for being "Hutu," "Tutsi," "Dinka," "Kurd," "Muslim" or "Jew"--at what point could our affiliation with our teams come to stand for something bigger where we truly loose our wits about us so that we are more inclined to hate and discriminate? And yes, I say this because I even see such ugly roots in my own heart.
But for YMCA b'ball, it's another story, of course.
Ha, Alex, now you know how I felt all through college when bball was SUCH a big deal to everyone, and I was too boring to care. ;o)
As for my two cents, I think it's more an issue of the big deal we make out of ANYONE throwing a ball--not the fact that these people are young and most of the audience isn't. However, whichever way you spin it, it's easy to find it rather silly.
With that said, I watched the SuperBowl with friends this year (as I do only on occasion), and I was surprised how interesting I actually found the game. *sigh* Maybe there's hope for me yet...
I'm catching up on blogs today, and it sounds like your sabbatical is still going well. Glad to hear it.
Post a Comment