Jack's Facebook posts suggest that he's had a great week. A couple of well-researched, witty baseball articles that he's written were used in the popular web site Bleacher Report. Then he went to see a Yankees game with his girlfriend (also a Yankee fan) and watched them win on a walk-off home run. The day after that he got out and saw Bruce Springsteen in a 4-hour concert. Plus, he and I have been trading baseball trivia questions by e-mail. It seems fair to say that he's having the time of his life. And I've always been happy when he's happy, except when I've been punching him.
Last night Dena and I headed out to Destihl for dinner with her sister (and maid of honor) Zina and Trish. It had been a while and we always have fun with them. Then we headed out to see Illinois State volleyball team beat Bradley 3 games to 1 in a match that was never really in question. The stunner was at the first intermission (in volleyball they have intermissions after every two games). Let me explain.
When we walked into the arena, we eventually found seats in a section marked "Reserved." It felt odd to sit in someone else's seats, but we were late to it seemed safe to say that whoever the seats were being held for were not coming.
At intermission an announcement comes up on the screen that a ceremony would be honoring the 1992 team on their 20 year anniversary.
My heart started racing.
You see, in college one of my activities was to be an officer of a group called Students Supporting Redbird Athletics (treasurer). It was a fledgling group with never more than a couple dozen members, but we were supported wholly by the athletic department. So we got some great seats at many sporting events.
Meanwhile, college was when I taught myself to play volleyball. There was a group that gathered over at a gym near old Walker Hall a couple nights a week, and I joined in. At first only my raw athleticism kept me from embarrassment amidst these seasoned players. In time though I got pretty good.
In my junior year, my roommate and best college friend Steve Peterson was also an amateur volleyball player. He and I formed an intramural team or three.
And we went to Redbird games.
And this team was good.
Really good.
They were the best team in the history of the school, with 30 wins.
Made it past the first round of the NCAA tournament.
Naturally, and perhaps just a little because we were both coming off girlfriend breakups and they were female athletes, we became enamored of this team.
Because of my athletic department connections, we actually got to join them in the pre-game locker room talk before a big match against Notre Dame, which they won.
And now here they were, being announced one by one.
Coach Julie Morgan.
Karen Hopkins.
Michelle Rucker.
Jeannette Newberry.
Keely Zimmerman,
Jill Cole.
Kim Nelson.
Carla McQueen.
As their names were called I felt a wave of emotion roll through me. I never met them personally but they were a bright light and powerful part of my my beloved college years. (One of my favorite stories is that my patented Irish brogue was born at an ISU game... Steve and I would cheer in awful Irish whenever Carla McQueen did something awesome, but then we perfected it night after night in our dorm room).
Then they started heading toward our seats! Turns out this section had been reserved for them. So I got a close-up look at them all before they headed out.
Every one appeared to have done well for themselves.
And I, too, look back with fondness about what God has given me during the last 20 years. Healthy, succeeding in the career I was studying for back then, happily married.
It's usually easy to look at the past and remember the mistakes, but so much richer to harvest those golden memories. Next week we'll build some more.
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