There Was Something in the Air

 This weekend is a hot one for those of us who follow football. Go, Texans, in your playoff game. And then there’s the BIG college matchup between Miami and Indiana. Who would ever have predicted those two would be the last ones standing? And who would have thought the best quarterback in college today is named Fernando?

“There was something in the air that night. The stars were bright. Fernando.”

You can’t say his name without singing the ABBA song. Maybe someone once told him he should change his name to Fred, but he’s proud of the heritage it carries. Not only is he talented, but last year he took calculus, supports his mother who has MS, and—oh yes—is handsome. Sounds like a movie plot. 

Sports were part of my Wilson experience. The first year I taught there, the football team was one of the best I have ever seen. They waltzed through district play and were said to be destined for state. Then came the first playoff game in Snyder. Before anyone could fully realize what was happening, a terrific snowstorm rolled in and completely masked the field and stadium. The game should have been delayed, but it wasn’t.

Some of the players later told me it was the coldest they had ever felt in their lives. No score for either team—the field was that bad—so the outcome came down to first downs. Wilson was one short. Just like that, the best team ever was stopped.

When they came back to school, they held their heads high and went on with life. What a lesson. No complaining. No “poor, pitiful me.” No “that was awful.” They took what came their way and became productive men in their communities. There will always be times in our lives when a great plan falls apart, and we may think we deserve to use it as an excuse for years to come. But God gives us strength if we ask for it, and we find other ways to make our lives what they should be. It was one moment—but our lives are made up of many moments, and one cannot be allowed to define who we are.

When immigrants came to the Cibolo Valley in 1845, they didn’t have time for sports. They were struggling simply to stay alive. But once they gained some stability, they celebrated with something they brought from home: nine-pin bowling. It is special to the German community and quite different from the bowling you see on TV. Farmers from a small stretch of the Hill Country became known for their skill, bringing home wins from San Antonio and other places where they competed.

Some might have thought they should abandon this old-world game and try newer, more popular activities. But there’s another lesson there: don’t be afraid to do what you know best—even if it’s different. You don’t have to change simply because others say you should. Improve and learn? Of course. But enjoying a tradition has its own value.

Lessons are all around us every day. We can open our eyes to them—or fall victim to our stubbornness. Maybe that’s a good prayer for the new year: Lord, keep me from using excuses so that I can go on to live a great life.