On Christmas and Sports

Welcome back to this month's theme on faith and identity

Hello everyone, and Merry Christmas! I am currently on winter break and enjoying time with my family. This week, I asked on Threads, “What hurts worse: losing a championship or leaving your sport?” Overwhelmingly (and to my surprise), the response was leaving your sport. As someone who thinks about sports regularly and holds to the mantra of “sports as a microcosm to life,” I had to wonder why sports mean so much to us. As a culture, we clearly value sports. We use it in our everyday language in phrases such as: “You knocked it out of the park” and “I dropped the ball on that.” In fact, 97 of the top 100 most-watched television programs were sports-related. We obviously put an emphasis on the value of sport.

But why? Why do these sports mean so much to us? Why do I, as a Browns fan, put myself through so much agony year after year? I think it is because sports tell us a lot about how we think about life. As unpredictable as life can be, sports can reflect that same sense of randomness. We cheer for the underdog, scoff at our rivals, and even become emotional when we see a player make a comeback from something we thought was improbable. Through all of the wild ranges of emotions, sports give us a view of life in just a few short hours.

If sports give us a view of life, then how do we deal with loss? I’m not sure who started the quote, but I love the saying “No losses, just lessons.” It’s the feeling of maybe losing the battle but not the war. We can live to fight another day. However, there is a unique pain that comes with the finality of never putting on the jersey again. I can distinctly remember my last game wearing the uniform for Eastern Kentucky University. We lost in the most painful way, a buzzer beater. Having to look up at the clock and knowing that the game was over and there was nothing else I could do had to be one of the most gut-wrenching things that I ever had to deal with.

It was over. From the time that I was 2 years old, the one constant thing I had in my life was basketball. Years of hard work, sweat, tears, road trips, meeting teammates who became friends. Over. In a flash.

When I had time to process all of this loss, I had to sit with myself and wonder with Christ as my foundation, what was this all for? Why does this hurt so bad? What is the lesson that can be had in the finality of this loss?

It has been almost a year since I lost my roommate and teammate to a sudden heart attack. I wish that this was only the heartache that I had to deal with in the last year but, I also lost my uncle who was one of my first coaches in basketball. And to finish off what was a rocky year, I also lost my mother-in-law to cancer. All losses that were gut punches to me and my family.

The hardest part about dealing with the loss of life is that it doesn’t usually end there. The grieving is what continues and has no expiration date on when it can end. It is a random wave of emotion that can happen anytime. I’m sure if you have experienced loss in your life, then you understand what this feeling is like.

However, there is hope. And that is what Christmastime is about. The hope of a savior coming in the form of a baby that one day he would take away the sins of the world. As I process what lessons I’ve learned through the losses, I typically come back to two conclusions: 1) Grief is a gift in a way that reminds us of the good gifts that God gives, and 2) Hope is a confident expectation in what has already been promised.

If sports are a microcosm of life then, the finality of a loss of a career teaches us about death. Not in a morbid way but in a way that we can be thankful for the gift that God gave us and hope for a day when every tear is wiped from our eyes and death will be no more (Rev 21:4). And with this hope, we can confidently say “O death, where is your sting (1 Cor 15:57)?”

This season, hope comes to us in the form of a baby. Born in a manger. The snake crusher was promised to bring peace on Earth. In the most unlikely way, our hope came to rescue us and bring us back to Him. We can rest knowing that no matter how chaotic the world may seem, the answer comes as a baby and rules as a king. Even though I grieve the loss of my loved ones, Christmas reminds me of why I can have joy amid my sorrows.

Thank you so much for reading and sharing my newsletter. It means the world to me that you all take time out of your day to read my words. If you would like to continue this conversation, please reach out. I would love to connect with you!

Merry Christmas everyone!