Imagine this: you’re a rookie to this world, to the game. All you know is your mom and the small upstate town you inhabit. You have your den, but you want action. You crave the ball. So your mom brings you with her to get food. She says, “Hey, wait in this tree. I’ll be right back.” It’s nice, peaceful even, like the quiet before the big touchdown. You get yourself comfortable, ready for a nap. Then you hear a high pitched voice yelling.
One person turns into three. Three turns into eight. Soon there’s a crowd. Now you have an audience. Flashing lights, loud noises and cheering. This isn’t a football game, but with these people, you’re a part of the Super-Bear-Bowl. One of them throws a stick at you. A score appears along with a buzzer:
PEOPLE: 1 BEAR: 0.
Guess it’s a game now. People are yelling at you, telling each other, “Look, look!” Taking a nap is no longer an option with this volume. You’re just a cub. You haven’t even played in JV. All of the “oohs” and “aahs” are just adding to your stress.
You have to evaluate your plays. Are you more of a running back, fleeing from the tree, avoiding the crowd? Or are you a linebacker, ready to defend your tree? You miss your den, you miss your mom and you definitely miss the peace before this game began. You were never equipped for this. You never thought you would yearn for peace when all you wanted before this was excitement.
You call time. The break never ends. The crowd gets bored of you sitting in your tree and moves on to the next big game. You heard it has something to do with “cops” and “Cuddies.” Regardless, the match is forfeited and you have never been so relieved. You can’t wait to tell your mom about your first game.