It shouldn't be a surprise that some of my fondest memories from college are from the gridiron. But the ones I'm thinking of right now didn't occur on fall Saturdays in Michigan Stadium. Rather, they are from a lesser known place: Mitchell Fields. This is where I played intramural flag football with Matt and my "buddies-in-law". Even though I had only modest athletic ability, near zero coordination skills, AND was the guy dating his sister, Matt was kind enough to invite me along.
These guys were serious, holding practices before games and drawing up plays on a set of note cards carried to the huddle. They quickly assessed my talents and put me back at safety. I suspect they realized I could do the least damage there since none of our opponents ever showed any proficiency at throwing deep. Even with me on the team, we (they) were actually really competitive, even making it to the semi-finals one year.
One of my most distinct memories is not from a game we played well in, but one that we were losing pretty badly. We were down by several scores and it was the second half of the game. I remember being in the huddle on offense, and a general sense of defeat in us all. All except Matt of course - incredulous that we would give up with so much time on the board. I'll never forget his scolding, assuring us that we could still win. And the next thing you know we started to make some plays. And soon we scored a touchdown. I have a perfect memory of Matt running toward the end zone to attempt the extra point, fire in his eyes, barking at us "I TOLD you - we can STILL WIN!"
It was only a few minutes out of a silly football game, but I have thought about that exchange on many occasions - even before Oct. 2008. I've never examined until now why that memory has stuck with me, but I think it is just that I saw his true inner self, the very fabric of his spirit. And as anyone who knows him has surely experienced, when you see that spirit it hits you over the head so hard you can't forget.
This last year doctors have thrown punch after punch after punch at the Cancer, and he takes every hit along with it. The toll on his body from the drugs and complications cannot be overstated. There is no doubt without Megan and the rest of his family/supporters, he would not survive the cancer treatments. At the same time, spend only a few minutes with him and you realize his spirit is a rock. Hit it as hard as you can with whatever you've got, it's staying put. You add Megan and Ethan to the mix, and he's unbreakable.
We didn't win that football game. But I know if we all believed as Matt believed, we would have come a lot closer. And we even might have won. Today I was at M&M's and on the refrigerator was a strip of paper that read: "We cannot control the winds, but we can adjust the sails." No one can predict the future with any certainty, and no one knows how much time we get to spend on Earth. But when you live your life like that, you cannot lose.
These guys were serious, holding practices before games and drawing up plays on a set of note cards carried to the huddle. They quickly assessed my talents and put me back at safety. I suspect they realized I could do the least damage there since none of our opponents ever showed any proficiency at throwing deep. Even with me on the team, we (they) were actually really competitive, even making it to the semi-finals one year.
One of my most distinct memories is not from a game we played well in, but one that we were losing pretty badly. We were down by several scores and it was the second half of the game. I remember being in the huddle on offense, and a general sense of defeat in us all. All except Matt of course - incredulous that we would give up with so much time on the board. I'll never forget his scolding, assuring us that we could still win. And the next thing you know we started to make some plays. And soon we scored a touchdown. I have a perfect memory of Matt running toward the end zone to attempt the extra point, fire in his eyes, barking at us "I TOLD you - we can STILL WIN!"
It was only a few minutes out of a silly football game, but I have thought about that exchange on many occasions - even before Oct. 2008. I've never examined until now why that memory has stuck with me, but I think it is just that I saw his true inner self, the very fabric of his spirit. And as anyone who knows him has surely experienced, when you see that spirit it hits you over the head so hard you can't forget.
This last year doctors have thrown punch after punch after punch at the Cancer, and he takes every hit along with it. The toll on his body from the drugs and complications cannot be overstated. There is no doubt without Megan and the rest of his family/supporters, he would not survive the cancer treatments. At the same time, spend only a few minutes with him and you realize his spirit is a rock. Hit it as hard as you can with whatever you've got, it's staying put. You add Megan and Ethan to the mix, and he's unbreakable.
We didn't win that football game. But I know if we all believed as Matt believed, we would have come a lot closer. And we even might have won. Today I was at M&M's and on the refrigerator was a strip of paper that read: "We cannot control the winds, but we can adjust the sails." No one can predict the future with any certainty, and no one knows how much time we get to spend on Earth. But when you live your life like that, you cannot lose.
Christmas Eve
ReplyDeleteJack:
You were a great friend to Matthew. When I saw the two of you interact I could see the realness of your bond. Not only did you have the good sense to marry Matt's sister but you were his good friend. I remember one morning seeing the two of you talking about the Tigers. Both of you had such respect and admiration for each other. We were all lucky to have known Matt--he was wonderful. Your a great guy also.
Of course, Kristin is a really exceptional woman and you are very lucky to have her as your wife.
Dave Rowan