Rules of the Game Part I

I think it starts at recess. Five or six little boys decided between freeze tag and hide and seek.

Pretty quickly, it becomes kickball or dodge ball. There's that first time teams are chosen, and somebody is, and has to be, picked last. The boys don't do it to be mean, the game requires that a captain pick the best of his options every time its his turn to draft for his team.

Over time, the trend is set--changeable only by moving to a new neighborhood, or sudden popularity of a new game. The athletic are ranked and rated, and the clumsy are relegated to the end of the line--the undesirables.

These 'unpicked' boys subsequently join one of two camps; the quitters or the plucky.

Quitters find some other way to spend recess. They swing or teeter, while the plucky stand there every day, waiting their turn while the athletic and popular get their first-round status for the day.

These strong-willed little boys have discovered that there is social value to the game itself. And on some level, they reason that 'last picked' is a social step above not playing the game at all, and disappearing from view.

As an adult, I've met some of the people scarred by this process. I admit the damage can appear to be severe. In some cases, it seems to literally shape certain people's self-esteem across decades and in spite of later accomplishments.

But these are the rules of the game. Well-coordinated, fast, strong kids who understand the game of the day get picked first. New kids move to the end of the line until they have demonstrated thier ability to play. There is no referee, no appeal, and no relief.

Over time this becomes the law of the playground, in the same way that gravity became the law of the planet.

And every little boy knows the rules. Even the outcasts know better than to try to game the system; opting instead to either not play the game, or gamble on pluck.

Some will try to make their mark elsewhere; in the classroom, or with their parents, or with comedy, music, or art. But they all know that once they step on the field, the rules apply.

A few years pass, and the more evolved team sport concept is passed down from fathers, older brothers, the big kids, or television. Team sports introduce new concepts--fair play, playing by the rules of the game, learning how to win--and just as importantly--honorably lose.

By this stage, the outcasts have typically started declaring that they don't "like" sports, as if the game is something that requires an individual's affection. It doesn't matter, they are still aware of the rules. And the society in which a little boy lives doesn't care that he 'likes' the game. His is a culture ruled by the concepts the game teaches.

And the little boy finds himself semi-permanently assigned to one of the myriad social strata-jock, participant, player, referee, cheater, coach, substitute, or cheerleader. And the outsiders avoid the game but not the concepts, because these are the rules by which boyhood is lived.

And the plucky get pluckier because you get better when you play more.

In time if you're plucky, you discover through 'hard work' and persistence that you don't have to be great to be valuable. All the game requires is that you learn to do one thing well enough.

Maybe you're a natural at defense, a great goalie, have a knack for rebounding, or the skills to be a punter. Everyone isn't born to be a pitcher, or wide receiver, or point guard. These are the superstars. They are rare. Many, if not most boys are born to be role players. And the game has evolved plenty of roles for the plucky.

And whether you play the game or not, the game is all around you. And every boy needs other boys, and where tow or more boys find themselves together, the rules exist and are followed with religious fervor.

And then grownups get involved. Little League standardizes the equiment, and introduces practice--which is a new concept to a little boy. And in the early days, "everybody plays," and there "are no winners or losers." But every little boy knows this isn't the natural order of things. He sees the gited pulled aside after practice for extra reps, and sees the grownups encourage the mortals to just drink their juice before the ride home.

And once he's home, and the boys gather to play, he takes his place in the natural order of things. The place where the best play first, there are winners and losers, and the game has a beginning and an end.

And in many ways, this is what it MEANS to be a little boy. It is to learn to navigate this wonderfully simple and complicated landscape.

And by the time you reach high school, you understand.

The purpose of the games is to teach you the rules. It doesn't even matter whether you are good at sport or not. Very few truly are. What matters is that you have absorbed the rules, because they are not the rules to sport, they are the rules to manhood.

And men rule the world.

And if you are going to survive and eventually thrive in this wolrd ruled by men, you MUST know and understand the rules.

High school is where you ultimately learn the importance of the uniform. This is where teams first represent larger groups of people. Here, if you are lucky enough to make the team, you proudly wear the colors of your school in neighborhoods you've never visited before, on a field of battle you first encounter moments before the game is to begin.

You may letter. You may be recruited to a higher level of competition. You may get your name in the paper.

Or you may be one of the plucky ones who just play the game, on whose shoulders every high school dynasty is built.

Watch for them, every team has them. They're the ones who sit on the bench during varsity competition. They know all the plays by heart, but they aren't fast enough or quick enough or nimble enough to be the first option. Some of them have never actually ever played in a game that counted.

They will never become famous for their contribution; but they practice every day. They get knocked to the ground over and over again by linemen learning the fine art of the proper tackle. They do wind sprints and suicide lines until they puke. They spend hours in the weight room. They field hundred of bunts, swim thousands of laps, and shoot millions of free throws, because to be unprepared is against the rules.

Even though they know they will never get into the games that count, they wake before dawn because that's what it means to be on the team. Everyone on the team respects them. this is their individual trophy.

Here are the rules they learn:

1. Every game has rules. These are inviolate.
2. You play to win the game.
3. You must compete for the honor of being on the team. The best players play.
The rest are backups, who must be ready should injury strike.
4. Try-outs are about your mental ability. Everybody here knows how to play
the sport. But it doesn't matter how theoretically good you are; if you don't
do well at tryouts, you aren't going to make the team.
5. There is no shame in not making varsity.
6. There is great glory in making varsity.
7. Practice is MUCH harder than the actual game.
8. Respect your opponent.
9. Shake hands before and after the game. Go for his throat between the whistles.
10. Protect yourself at all times.
11. There is a winner and a loser of every game.
12. Your record of wins and losses matters in determining the champion(s).
13. Sometimes you win the game, sometimes you lose the game. When you lose, don't whine. Congratulate the winner and vow to kick his ass next time. Do it.
14. Communism is the enemy. Everyone else is just an opponent.
15. Don't blame the ref. It's never the ref's fault.
16. If you're hurt; rub some dirt on it, walk it off, and keep playing. Never pretend to be injured.
17. If you're injured, don't pretend like you're just hurt. We can't afford to lose you for the entire season.
17a. If you're not sure, you're not injured.
18. If you lose to the same opponent repeatedly, he's better than you. This is called a worthy opponent; you can measure your progress by narrowing his margin of victory over time. If you work hard, you WILL eventually beat him.
18a. If you beat an opponent repeatedly, you are better than him. it is time for a new opponent. Either way, the wins and losses count.
19. Cheating is part of every game. Assume your opponent will cheat.
Cheat back if you must, but never get caught. Nobody likes cheaters who get caught.
20. Always play as hard as you can. There are no bonus points for potential.

There IS a point to this rant. It is political in nature, and hopefully you'll get there without me having to guide the way. Either way, I will tie of the loose ends, next blog.

Peace,

--Stew.

photo:
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