What I Felt Watching the Final Four

I don't normally watch basketball.  I'm awful at the sport so it never really held my interest and the few times I've tried watching the NBA it felt more like professional wrestling.  There are some great athletes but it feels like who wins has already been decided.  In other words it's entertainment, not sport.

But the NCAA tournament is a little different.  I've never filled out a bracket but I like the way that networks pop in and out of games.  Plays perfectly into the fact that I get bored easy watching the game and I'll really only pay attention if there is something dramatic happening.

Well this past weekend was one of those rare occasions that I saw the Final Four games in their entirety.  Seeing as I had no horse in the race I didn't care who won or lost.  But when the games were over I felt a pain that I hadn't in years. When the cameras were aimed at a kid that knew he was playing his last meaningful game of basketball, or his last game of basketball with the guys he's struggled with all season, my heart went out to them.

One of the few times that I openly cried in my adult life was after my last football game at Carroll University. I remember the game being over (we lost) and I was able to hold it in with clenched fists and jaw as our coach gave us the same old post-game speech.  I don't remember what he said but it didn't matter.

My mom was always there after the games and this time as soon as I gave her a hug it was Niagara Falls.

Niagara Falls Frankie Angel

I cried long, I cried hard, and in a weird way I wanted to stay there forever.  I didn't want to let go because I knew when I let go and went and shook hands with my teammates I'd just have to do it again.  And that's what really matters.

We played at a small division three school.  At the time we were a middle of the road team in a lower tier conference.  But none of that made any difference in how we felt about it.  We poured our blood and sweat into that team.  We made friendships that will last forever because they were formed over a shared struggle.  We endured brutal practices and workouts.  We celebrated our wins and cursed our losses, both usually involved adult beverages of some sort.  I will never compare sport to war but we became a band of brothers.  Civilians, but brother nonetheless.

Even though seeing those kids go through what I went through and what countless other athletes go through every year was bittersweet to watch, I didn't feel bad for them.  Hopefully they are able to take away what I took away from athletics.  That's a lifetime's worth of life lessons and a group of friends to share that lifetime with. And to all the men that I had the good fortune to play with, thank you.