To the cadence of drums and bugles they
enter the field, helmets gleaming in the light,
all clad in colorful matching battle dress.
A cadre of warriors crossing the impending
battleground. Prancing like cavalry steeds,
chomping at the bit, ready and eager to join
the fray.
Visceral electric energy fills the air, as in
one collective voice they begin their warrior
battle chant.
Across the field their adversary's approach,
clad in helmets and armor, fit and ready.
Both sides determined to defeat the other.
Fridy Night under the lights. The contest
about to begin.
Played out thousands of times each week
in America, at schools large and small,
from youngsters for fun, to beefy grown
men earning a living, spectator stadiums
filled with cheering rabid fans. Gridiron!
More than merely a sport, an extension
of our human evolution, a harnessing of
our inner natural instincts for aggression
and mutual hostility. Thankfully little or
no blood is shed, it is but a game. But oh,
what a truly marvelous sport to watch
and to have played.
Last night watching my youngest High
Schooler grandson and his brother warriors
play and defeat their foes of the week 42
to 6. Though, I felt saddened for the other
team, it was a very one-sided affair. But then,
there is as much knowledge gained from losing,
as from winning. I believe that to be true and
have shared that knowledge with my
offspring. Hopefully those boys on the
opposing team hear that from a parent,
or coach that cares about them as well.
Life Lessons, come in many ways.