COMMENTARY
The show must go on.
In the blink of an eye, and a matter of 90 minutes, our entire perspective on life and the world was turned upside-down. After the initial shock began to wear off, everyone, including the athletes, took a step back and looked at what is important in life. In the grand scheme of life, why had sports become such a priority for so many of us?
I can be just as bad, if not worse, than most people when it comes to being emotionally involved in sporting events. When a team I care about is involved, I tend to put my whole heart into the game. I jump up and shout when they win, and I feel sick to my stomach when they lose. My own mother refuses to sit in the same room with me when one of my teams plays an important game. My friends know that when a certain team is playing, it is best to let me watch alone. My whole day can be made or broken by how the team does.
On Tuesday, as I was sitting on my couch, shocked and speechless, a news station said all baseball games had been postponed for the next two days. The first thing that popped into my mind was “Who cares?” It no longer mattered to me that my favorite team was in the thick of a pennant race or that Barry Bonds was chasing 70. I forgot all about Michael Jordan’s return and the NFL games on Sunday. At that moment, all I wanted was another survivor to come out of the rubble.
Apparently, I was not alone in my wishes. Major League Baseball stopped play for the entire week. The NFL postponed its games. The PGA canceled its tournament here in St. Louis. The MLS canceled the rest of the regular season. Here at Saint Louis University, all the sporting events were either canceled or postponed. No one wanted to play, and there were very few who wanted to watch. All eyes and thoughts were on those trapped and dead in the World Trade Center.
I spent a good deal of last week in a daze, just thinking about what had happened. I could not get the pictures out of my head – of those people trapped at the top of the building waving for help, minutes before it collapsed. The weekend came and went, and I didn’t really miss the sports.
Then, on Monday night, something strange happened. I was watching the Cardinals game on television when the seventh inning stretch came on. Instead of the usual “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” they sang “God Bless America.” (Tens of thousands of people standing there, singing the praises of our great country really got to me.) As the song concluded, a chant of “USA” broke out among the crowd. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stick up, and I got goose bumps. My eyes started to water, and I felt my chest swell a little. Six days before all I could feel was shock and sadness, but at that moment, I had never been more proud to be an American.
For me it was just a small symbol of the beginning of a healing process for this country. Honestly, I felt little emotion about the game. It made no difference to me who won or lost. I still enjoyed watching it, but it just wasn’t important to me. The important thing was that I could feel joy and pride again.
Sports are not a life or death issue. But I think it’s important to our whole country that the games are played again. We have suffered a terrible attack, not only on the World Trade Center, but also on our society as a whole. We need something to get behind, something to give us an excuse to stand up and cheer. Nothing can do that better than sports.
Yes the show will go on, but it will not be the same.
