After a gut-wrenching, heroic performance on TDI Day Two, we steam-roll into Day Three gathering momentum like an underdog football team after a turnover. You can sense the power, feel the cosmic energy and almost taste success. It gets easier to control the discussion. Every time one of the many ‘wouldn’t a beer be delicious right about now’ thoughts pop up, the conversation ends with a quick no. And those thoughts, conversations, bribes, negotiations, excuses, rationalizations, debates, are acknowledged, and then rejected. Just don’t pick up as Russell Brand warns.
It has always helped me, a former smoker, chewer and functioning alcoholic, to move my focus away from the urge as quickly as possible. If I start to rationalize and create scenarios that justify my basic weakness, I will lose. As long as I have a something in front of me to attach my awareness to, it’ll be OK, at least for the short tern, that being all I need - just get me through this mess and I’ll deal with the next one as soon as it shows up. But if I engage in the debate - I will end up numbing the pain and find some petty and pathetic reason why.
What I found out about myself yesterday, struggling to watch my first college football game sober since about 1967, is that the reality of the circumstance I have created for myself is comparatively bleak. A fact that I can choose to either accept and improve or try to erase from memory with help from the NCAA and a local craft brewery. I used to think that this was a reward of sorts, watching my team that I have been following since Jimmy Carter was in office play football on fall Saturdays as I sit in my armchair wearing the dual caps of quarterback and beer vendor, always convinced of its wholesome therapeutic entitlement.
Yesterday’s game was horrific, not so much because my team played like dog shit (and still won) but because I had (choose) to watch while drinking lemonade and coffee. Painful on and off the field.
The important thing is that we slugged it out and stand here, now, in the red-zone of Day Three. We have a fighter’s chance. The streak is alive, I discovered a very important lesson, the Dawgs beat Utah on the road, and I think I feel stronger for the effort. It didn’t kill me so I MUST be stronger. There is no quit in this dog today.
This morning we staged another Sunday movie ride in the PowerBarn. Watched Friday Night Lights and rode almost 37 miles from the cheap seats of the PB’s front row. Coach Gary (Billy Bob) delivered the key line to his QB about life and football:
“Being perfect is not about that scoreboard out there. It's not about winning. It's about you and your relationship with yourself, your family and your friends. Being perfect is about being able to look your friends in the eye and know that you didn’t let them down because you told them the truth. And that truth is you did everything you could. There wasn’t one more thing you could've done. Can you live in that moment as best you can, with clear eyes, and love in your heart, with joy in your heart? If you can do that gentleman - you're perfect!”
Be perfect.
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