For the Love of the Game

I don’t care for golf. I don’t like soccer, even now that women are getting closer to a fair-pay arrangement. Swimming bores me. I couldn’t care less about the Super Bowl.

I only sit down for a few of the Olympic contests, mostly skating and gymnastics.

That being said, I just finished watching “The Natural” for the one-hundredth time—or pretty close.

As I said above, I’m not much of a sports person. I know enough about hockey to think Gordie Howe is still the greatest—no matter what a record book might say about Wayne Gretsky. I’m a Detroiter, still, and won’t change my opinion.

If you ask me the name of a football player, Brady comes to mind—right after Alex Karras.

For tennis, Serena and Venus. Who can argue with that?

In my opinion, Nancy Kerrigan is still the best skater of all time. Before figure skating gave up grace and beauty and turned into a jumping match, she was the most artistic, most graceful, most beautiful.

I do give Simone Biles the G.O.A.T award in gymnastics. She’s phenomenal.

I know no one cares about my opinion about any sport. That’s okay.

I do, however, love baseball and baseball movies, even that one with Charlie Sheen. Maybe that’s because my daddy took me to the Tiger games back when they were at Briggs Stadium.

I played ball myself and was a pretty good hitter in high school and captain of the softball team. Maybe that’s why I love baseball movies.

Of course, The Natural is one of my favorites. Glenn Close, one of the best actors ever, Robert Redford, so good, and at his height of gorgeousness, Wilfred Brimley, Robert Duval. Love Robert Duval especially.

I love the whole “overcoming obstacles, being true to yourself scenario.”

I loved A League of Their Own, and must have seen it a dozen times. I would watch Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, and For the Love of the Game a few more times. Interesting that Kevin Costner seems to be fond of baseball movies, too.

With the exception of Rudy, with Sean Astin, I’m not big on football movies.

I did love his brother, Mackenzie Astin, in Iron Will, if I can consider the Iditarod as a sport. If it were on today, I’d sit right down.

King Richard, which I haven’t seen yet, is only the second tennis movie I’ve ever heard about. Battle of the Sexes, the one about the Bobby Riggs vs. Billie Jean King match was one, but I won’t watch it more than that one time.

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I’m not the least bit interested in bobsled racing, but I loved Cool Runnings, about the Jamaican bobsled team, based on a true story. John Candy, yes. Getting a second chance when you’ve messed up.

I might seem odd that I love, love, love Rocky. Rocky –One, Two, and Three, and not Four, with the Russian. I liked the fifth and sixth, but didn’t LOVE them.

Odd that Rocky is so high on my list, because I loathe boxing. The idea of two men beating one another to a pulp for “sport” repels me.

I can only remember one movie about wrestling–The Wrestler, with Mickey Roarke. My brother-in-law was a real wrestler, the kind of wrestling they do at the Olympics, not the TV chair-throwing kind, only real skills. Roarke was nominated for it.

Maybe I love The Natural and Rocky because they’re about a person “taking his shot.”  There’s something noble in that.

It’s too easy to say, “What if I’m not good enough?” and not even to try.

I have a plaque on my desk that reads, “If your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough.”

I still dream of things I intend to do. I write books that will never overshadow Ernest Hemingway, and country music Hank Williams might not envy, and am going into screenplays which might never get filmed. I design and sew historic costumes. I’m learning to play the guitar. I refinish and restore abused but lovely furniture.

Whatever comes to mind next, I’m not making excuses not to take it on.

I’m taking my shot. Even if I don’t become a master at any of the things I seek to accomplish, I dream on. I plan. I work. I endeavor.

At a time in my life when my body stops me from the physical pursuits I used to enjoy, I intend to push my mental possibilities to the maximum. It would be horrible to me to be afraid and then to get to the end of things and wonder what would have happened if I tried.

I will continue dreaming, even if I do scare myself.

Me and Roy Hobbs.

Me and Rocky Balboa.

Me and Ray Kinsella.

We’ll build it.

Maybe they will come.