49 - 49 at the end of regulation. That was the score of tonight’s Idaho 5A Boys Basketball state semi-final game between the Timberline Wolves and the Couer d’Alene Vikings.Obviously, it wasn’t the final score, because someone has to win and someone has to lose. Not being tied to either one of these schools, I didn’t want either team to have to lose. It was one of those games where the players made all the plays to win and very few mistakes.
Timberline was down by three with the clock under 10 seconds left in regulation. They gave the ball to #1 who had rolled his ankle twice and had not taken a 3-point shot all night. He was the last person I thought would jack up a shot. But he did anyway. I told my son, “Oh no. Not him.” as the ball left his hand. Only to watch it go in with 2 seconds left. The Vikings desperation heave was no-good and the game went to overtime.
In overtime, it was a back-and-forth affair, with Timberline eventually getting the ball, down one, with less than 10 seconds left and making a 3 to win the game by 2.
To win a chance to play for a state championship on the biggest stage tomorrow night. And to hand Couer d’Alene a loss that sends them to another gym in front of a smaller crowd for a consolation prize.
Emotionally, I love watching sports because of the opportunity it gives me to work with opposites. Working with opposites is one of the most powerful practices that we have available to us to learn how to be with life as it is as we are and to learn and grow and heal.
As we sat waiting for the overtime period to begin and I looked at the score tied at 49-49, I found myself thinking about how in less than 20 minutes one of these groups of teenagers would be filled with elation, excitement, joy, happiness, and all that comes from accomplishing a big goal.
And the other group of teenagers would be on the opposite side of that emotional spectrum, filled with disappointment, anger, jealousy, sadness, regret, remorse, longing, and disbelief.
And we, as sort of neutral spectators, were getting ready to witness these pairs of opposites played out in front of us, in our minds, in our hearts, and in this shared space.
It is really quite an incredible scene and perhaps what draws us to it has quite little to do with just the game and quite a lot to do with the stakes of the game.
There is something about raising the stakes, about having a prize, about having a worthy competitor, that connects us to meaning and brings us face to face with the Law of Opposites “in which all that is seen as positive is held captive by its opposite. Darkness cannot exist without light, or good without evil. Pain cannot exist without pleasure, or conflict without its opposite, peace. [Winning cannot exist without losing]…Opposites are always paired, and our suffering is sustained by our inability to experience and transcend any pair of opposites” (Miller, 71).
Playing in this field of opposites is a liberating experience. At these state basketball games, I can enjoy working with the opposites of emotions, beliefs, sensations, and thoughts in a fairly low-key environment.
I am the neutral spectator, watching it all pass by, loving the drama, loving the winning, loving the losing, loving the chance to be with it all.
Perhaps who I really am is always the neutral spectator.
Peace.
