Perspective and Sports
I'm sorry for the hiatus. We'll be back on regular schedule from here on in. The following was what consumed me for a couple of weeks. The sports tie-in was what led me to write about it here.
A couple of weeks ago I was refereeing a basketball game for five year-olds. I've been doing this at the rec. center nearby for years now. It's great fun. The kids are all there to have fun, play ball, and smile. And what's great is that with very rare exceptions, the parents and coaches are beyond supportive and not to that point of psycho parent status yet. It's win win.
So I was about to do the tip off and, as I always do, I had the kids shake hands before I threw the ball out. One kid was named Ezra and I forget who he jumped against. Ezra won the tip, got the ball back from a teammate and drained the first shot of the game. As he ran by I stuck my hand out and got a high-five. I always high-five kids for good shots and passes. Next time down the court a teammate of Ezra's shot the ball and it came off for a rebound. I saw Ezra go flying in there for the ball and take a spill. But when he hit the ground it made a foreign sound, like a metal box striking the ground or something. I checked on Ezra to make sure he was ok as he ran back down the court and he said he was fine. It was then I noticed something. Ezra had only one leg. His other was a prosthetic, hence the foreign sound when it hit the ground. The next time down the court Ezra drained another jumper. I stuck my other hand out for a high five and he obliged, but it felt like he only got a couple of fingers in there on this high five. That's because he only had two fingers on his left hand and his arm was smaller than the right. It turns out Ezra was born this way and had his leg amputated at age 3 because it would be too difficult to walk with one leg so much smaller than the other. So I got to marvel at this little guy. He smiled throughout, was clearly the best player on his team, and always the first one back on defense. Not only that, but he spread the ball around to players who didn't get to score yet. Did I mention he's five?
The game ended and I went home, but something about this kid reminded me of a clip I had seen during the NBA Finals. So I youtubed and found it (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrpO0rkzvHM). Not only is this kid a standout on the court, playing on one leg and an arm issue, but he's a walking lesson of the kind of perspective we should all have in life. He goes to classrooms filled with kids to teach them about acceptance. He's FIVE YEARS-OLD! He could easily have a woe is me mentality and at that young an age, who could really blame him? But he doesn't. He perseveres, excels, helps others, and does it all with a smile on his face.
So why bring it up on a sports column? Well, that night I needed perspective. I was on my way to dinner around 9:45 p.m., about to get off the freeway, when my cell phone rang.
"Eric?" the voice asked.
"Yeah Grandpa, what's going on?"
"Well Eric, your Grandma's not feeling well and we can't get ahold of your Father." Crap, Dad's a doctor and I'd really hate to bug Grandma's doctor on a Saturday night.
"Ok, I'll be right over." I tried my Dad but his phone was straight to voicemail, as was my Mom's. Ten minutes later, my phone rang again. This time it was my Dad telling me that Grandma was nauseous, to grab some meds and go on over. So I obliged. My folks were at a musical downtown and the couple they were with had driven.
So I got to their house and it was worse than I could have imagined. I'll spare you the details, but my Grandma was mid-stroke when I got there. It turns out the stroke had hit her cerebellum which threw off her balance system. It wasn't pretty. So my Grandma was in between episodes and my Grandpa had gone outside to clean the car. The event shook him up every bit as much as my Grandma. I was alone in the room with her and her eyes were closed. I had never seen a loved one sick like this outside of a hospital and I felt so unbelievably helpless. I did two things. I prayed, asking God for help either to get my Grandma out of this or to do anything to make her pain go away.
A couple of seconds later I thought about Ezra. That night was not about me, or my reactions, or my feelings about possibly losing my Grandma. It was about helping her and my Grandpa in any way I could and part of that was keeping calm and putting on a strong front for them. I figured, if this little boy with one leg could put on that happy face everyday and do his part to help others, then I could get through this night, no matter what that meant.
Long story short, my Dad arrived about an hour later, called the paramedics, and ten days later Grandma was home from the hospital. It was not a fun time for the RW family but I thanked Ezra's mother for teaching her son all that she had, as his way of going through life helped me through one of the toughest times in mine. I often lose patience trying to explain away the actions of prominent athletes, actors, or even politicians these days. For a world devoid of that which we seek for inspiration and perspective, I offer up little Ezra.
A couple of weeks ago I was refereeing a basketball game for five year-olds. I've been doing this at the rec. center nearby for years now. It's great fun. The kids are all there to have fun, play ball, and smile. And what's great is that with very rare exceptions, the parents and coaches are beyond supportive and not to that point of psycho parent status yet. It's win win.
So I was about to do the tip off and, as I always do, I had the kids shake hands before I threw the ball out. One kid was named Ezra and I forget who he jumped against. Ezra won the tip, got the ball back from a teammate and drained the first shot of the game. As he ran by I stuck my hand out and got a high-five. I always high-five kids for good shots and passes. Next time down the court a teammate of Ezra's shot the ball and it came off for a rebound. I saw Ezra go flying in there for the ball and take a spill. But when he hit the ground it made a foreign sound, like a metal box striking the ground or something. I checked on Ezra to make sure he was ok as he ran back down the court and he said he was fine. It was then I noticed something. Ezra had only one leg. His other was a prosthetic, hence the foreign sound when it hit the ground. The next time down the court Ezra drained another jumper. I stuck my other hand out for a high five and he obliged, but it felt like he only got a couple of fingers in there on this high five. That's because he only had two fingers on his left hand and his arm was smaller than the right. It turns out Ezra was born this way and had his leg amputated at age 3 because it would be too difficult to walk with one leg so much smaller than the other. So I got to marvel at this little guy. He smiled throughout, was clearly the best player on his team, and always the first one back on defense. Not only that, but he spread the ball around to players who didn't get to score yet. Did I mention he's five?
The game ended and I went home, but something about this kid reminded me of a clip I had seen during the NBA Finals. So I youtubed and found it (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrpO0rkzvHM). Not only is this kid a standout on the court, playing on one leg and an arm issue, but he's a walking lesson of the kind of perspective we should all have in life. He goes to classrooms filled with kids to teach them about acceptance. He's FIVE YEARS-OLD! He could easily have a woe is me mentality and at that young an age, who could really blame him? But he doesn't. He perseveres, excels, helps others, and does it all with a smile on his face.
So why bring it up on a sports column? Well, that night I needed perspective. I was on my way to dinner around 9:45 p.m., about to get off the freeway, when my cell phone rang.
"Eric?" the voice asked.
"Yeah Grandpa, what's going on?"
"Well Eric, your Grandma's not feeling well and we can't get ahold of your Father." Crap, Dad's a doctor and I'd really hate to bug Grandma's doctor on a Saturday night.
"Ok, I'll be right over." I tried my Dad but his phone was straight to voicemail, as was my Mom's. Ten minutes later, my phone rang again. This time it was my Dad telling me that Grandma was nauseous, to grab some meds and go on over. So I obliged. My folks were at a musical downtown and the couple they were with had driven.
So I got to their house and it was worse than I could have imagined. I'll spare you the details, but my Grandma was mid-stroke when I got there. It turns out the stroke had hit her cerebellum which threw off her balance system. It wasn't pretty. So my Grandma was in between episodes and my Grandpa had gone outside to clean the car. The event shook him up every bit as much as my Grandma. I was alone in the room with her and her eyes were closed. I had never seen a loved one sick like this outside of a hospital and I felt so unbelievably helpless. I did two things. I prayed, asking God for help either to get my Grandma out of this or to do anything to make her pain go away.
A couple of seconds later I thought about Ezra. That night was not about me, or my reactions, or my feelings about possibly losing my Grandma. It was about helping her and my Grandpa in any way I could and part of that was keeping calm and putting on a strong front for them. I figured, if this little boy with one leg could put on that happy face everyday and do his part to help others, then I could get through this night, no matter what that meant.
Long story short, my Dad arrived about an hour later, called the paramedics, and ten days later Grandma was home from the hospital. It was not a fun time for the RW family but I thanked Ezra's mother for teaching her son all that she had, as his way of going through life helped me through one of the toughest times in mine. I often lose patience trying to explain away the actions of prominent athletes, actors, or even politicians these days. For a world devoid of that which we seek for inspiration and perspective, I offer up little Ezra.
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