OK, it's down to Trevor and me. No, this is not a competition to see who is youngest, who is the smartest or even who is the better basketball player (all of which, by the way, Trevor would win). No, it has come down to whose basketball team will take the West and almost by default the next NBA championship.
Will it be Frank's Lakers--the team that he has watched since he was a wee lad growing up in Southern California? Or will it be Trevor's favorite for the year, the Minessota Timberwolves? The Wolves are not Trevor's favorite team, but he DID pick them to go all the way this year.
Tonight we find out who will take round one. It would be a great birthday gift from Phil, Shaq, Kobe, et al. if they took away home-court advantage tonight.
In fact, I have a challenge for Trevor if he is bold enough to accept it. If the Lakers win the series, he will have to wear a Lakers T-shirt under his dress shirt and gown at commencement, and he must show it to me whenever I ask. If the Wolves win, I will do the same, but with a Wolves shirt.
Go Lakers!
| "We reject the false doctrine that the church could have permission to hand over the form
of its message and of its order to whatever it itself might wish or to the vicissitudes of the
prevailing ideological and political convictions of the day." |
| You are Karl Barth! You like your freedom, and are pretty stubborn against authority! You don't care much for other people's opinions either. You can come up with your own fun, and often enough you have too much fun. You are pretty popular because you let people have their way, even when you have things figured out better than them. |
Thanks to Susie care of the Salty Vicar for this one.
This Spring and having to kick so quickly into efficient revision mode has left me emotionally stopped up. I have worked through and processed much, maybe too much! Sometimes I just need a good cry. Not one of those sniffling, holding the tissue cries, but a full-blown, let it all come out, cathartic sob fest. Sometimes all it takes is a good, sad movie. ER got me pretty good a couple of weeks back when Carter and Kem's child died in utero. Any movie suggestions would be much appreciated (I don't have enough time to read "other" books right now).
I know it's getting bad when I get choked up at the "Take Me Fishing" commercials. You know, the one where all these different people say "take me fishing because..." One vignette includes a little girl with spaced out teeth who says, "take me fishing because my wedding will come sooner than you think." Yep, if that kind of commercialized manipulation gets me going, I know it's time for a soul-flushing, and nothing does that better than a good old fashioned sad movie.
On other note, I have blog buidling up in my mind about "finding one's voice." I don't have the energy for it right now, but it will come soon.
I watched one of the best NBA playoff games ever last night. The Lakers beat the Spurs 74-73 to take a 3-2 advantage in the series. Analysts are calling it one of the most dramtic finishes in NBA history. Wow!
The Lakers fell behind late in the fourth quarter after leading for most of the game. With time running out, Kobe Bryant hit a 15 footer to put the Lakers up by one with 11 seconds left. The Spurs answered when Tim Duncan hit an impossible fade away from the top of the key with Shaq in his face. At that point, I assumed that the game was over since there was only .4 seconds left, barely enough time to catch a pass and shoot. After three time outs, everyone knew the ball was going to Kobe. The Spurs did a great job of denying him the ball. Gary Payton looked for his second and third option and finally fired the ball to a cutting Derek Fischer, who caught the ball as he was turning in mid air to shoot. SWISH! Fischer hit the 17 footer with the ball leaving his hand with .1 left on the clock. One is lucky to see a playoff game decided by a buzzer-beater. But three last minute shots in one game within a period of 12 seconds? Are you kidding me?!
I yelled so loud that I woke Adam up. As the old NBA slogan used to say, "I love this game" (especially when the Lakers win).
The Saints win the pennant! The Saints win the pennant! The Saints win the pennant!
Well not really, but we did win our first softball game of the season. AND it was against the #1 undefeated team in our division! AND we held them to only four runs! AND we scored 20 runs, 13 in the first inning with two outs! AND we “slaughter-ruled” (a.k.a. “mercy-ruled”) them. Every member of the team scored a run. In fact, I think everyone walked at least once.
Congrats to all the Saints! Great job gang! Look out tournament, the Saints are officially on a winning streak (OK, it’s only a one game streak, but, hey, we’re stoked!).
The events of the past couple of months have caused me to ponder much about my sense of calling and identity. I was refreshed today with the words from two sages:
Who Am I?
Who am I? They often tell me
I would step from my cell's confinement
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a squire from his country-house
Who am I? They often tell me
I would talk to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command
Who am I? They also tell me
I would bear the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.
Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I know of myself,
restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat,
yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighbourliness,
trembling with anger at despotisms and petty humiliation,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?
Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today, and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Who am I? they mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, thou knowest, O God, I am thine.
-Deitrich Bonhoeffer
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
-Thomas Merton
In response to some of the transitions going on at Seabury, and the anxious thoughts that have surfaced, I would like to say clearly, “I have no plans to leave the seminary.” Sure signs that this is the case:
1) My kids love living in Evanston. Even if I were extremely unhappy, which I am not, I would likely stay to provide my children with a little stability in their lives. They lived in graduate student housing for seven years. They deserve to put down roots a bit.
2) My spouse also enjoys living in Evanston, and a happy Michelle greatly increases my happiness.
3) I love teaching here. I know that it has not been a great environment for all students and faculty, and I don’t want to minimize the pain that some have experienced within these walls, but I feel like I get the students here and I feel like they get me.
4) Professionally it makes sense for me to stay, get promoted, receive tenure, etc., before I “move up” the food chain (provided I even want to “move up”). The short-term plan, even if there was such a thing for me, would certainly include staying for at least another 5-10 years.
5) In case you haven't noticed our house shows many signs of the Yamada clan digging in deep: a satellite dish, a garden, a big BBQ, multiple air conditioners, etc. I doubt seriously whether we would even want to move from our house, forget about leaving Evanston.
6) I finally have enough softball contacts in the area so that I actually have to turn teams down. This is more important than you might guess.
Nope, sorry Seabury, you are stuck with me for a while.
Legal clause: the foregoing comments will become null and void should I a) win the lottery, b) receive a six-figure offer from Princeton Theological Seminary (one of the only seminary’s I know who might be able to offer their professors such an amount), or c) be asked to be one of the core faculty at a progressively thinking seminary that is within 3 miles of an excellent point break.
My blogging has been non-existent for a while—a sure sign that I have not been fully engaged in my dissertation revisions (blogging is, after all, a great way to not finish that burdensome chapter or paragraph. Read here a great way to procrastinate, also remembering that if one is procrastinating that one is at least taking seriously on some level that the writing needs to get done). Well, read-in what you like, I am blogging again.
I was thinking today about sports (imagine that!) and the ways in which I tend to throw around the phrase, “let’s just have some fun.” This phrase is usually set in opposition to the ideal, “you play to win."
In my experience, the first phrase can mean two things. In the context of a team that has obvious talent, and hence will win a lot of games, “let’s just have some fun” means that given a choice between stressed out winning and easy-going winning, the latter is preferable. Winning is a given for such a team. The element of choice revolves around the team’s disposition while winning. However, if or when the team loses, the game is anything but fun. Trust me on this one.
On teams where the talent level is (searching for a good euphemism) a growing point, “let’s just have some fun” functions more as a mantra that helps you believe that there really is another goal to the game beyond winning. It’s like whistling in the dark. Now certainly there are people who truly enjoy the sport of a good game. But let’s face it, in most game contexts winning is preferable to losing. By the very fact that I have to create an alternative set of values for my 0-12 little league team (e.g., “winning isn’t everything”) suggests on some level that I am conceding that they would enjoy the game much more if they would have won. As a coach you never have to teach kids to be disappointed in losing. They get that pretty instinctually. Hence, within the context of a team that will lose more games than they win, I have found that taking winning more seriously can actually help the team to have more fun. Yes, it means disappointment most of the time, but if such a team does not take winning seriously, chances are they will never win. This robs team members in two ways: 1) it does not allow a team to experience the satisfaction of having tried its best to win; and 2) it minimizes the possibility of experiencing the utter joy of winning that rare game. Trust me, when a team like this wins, it’s like winning the World Series.
All this being said, there are good and bad winners, good and bad losers. I just don’t want to assume that winning is a bad thing or that the desire to win is a bad thing. In the context of a game that has winners and losers, I prefer to win. It’s more fun. There I’ve said it.
In the previous statements, all resemblances to current teams on which I play are purely coincidental.