Be Ready To Wrestle

This is a warning.

I am looking at an absolute nightmare of a situation Monday night. My favorite, most beloved team, the UCLA Bruins are playing my least favorite, most hated team, the Tennessee Volunteers.

The Bruins are going to lose, and probably lose badly. A third-string QB is making his first start behind an offensive line starting four first timers. Several aren't even offensive lineman. A rookie, Pac-10 offensive line matching up against an SEC, Tennessee defensive line spells trouble.

This is beyond painful for me. Children are already approaching me at school and talking trash. There is a second grader who keeps telling me he's sorry for the beating the Bruins are going to take Monday night.

I'm feeling slightly on edge.

So, here's the warning. If you want to talk, go ahead and talk, but be ready to wrestle.

I'm going to try to stay humble and quiet. I'm going to try to smile and take the fun pokes that come my way. I'm going to try to remember there is real suffering in the world and this is just a game.

But this is a perfect storm for me to snap. I don't know what will be happening. I don't know where I'll be. I don't know who will be talking, but there is a good chance it'll happen. When it does ... when the warmth of my UCLA love mixes with the coldness of my Tennessee hate causing a storm reaching category 3 or higher, look out. I will be so full of insecurity and anger I might have wrestle you to the ground to prove something to myself and to the rest of the baby blue army.

On the brightside, I'm a UCLA fan, so I probably won't be able to tackle you.

Just be thankful I won't be challenging you to a game of softball, women's water polo, or a juggling contest.

Pointing Toward Heaven

Two years ago a good friend took me to the Notre Dame/UCLA football game in South Bend. The experience was incredible until UCLA put on another "how not to tackle" exhibition in the fourth quarter. What I remember most about the game (other than my friend shifting between apologizing for my team's loss and celebrating his team's win) was the immediate change in the stadium.

Notre Dame had played poorly all day. UCLA's defense had played well, but the story of the game was Notre Dame's inability to make plays. There was an intense frustration swelling in the fans. With every failed drive, the frustration grew. UCLA was not supposed to win this game. Everyone knew they were watching something that wasn't supposed to happen. Then this happened...



Did you hear the crowd? There was hope and excitement during the play, but when the Jeff SmsoungujndnsonJA caught the pass and ran for the touchdown, there was an eruption. All was right. Things were how they were supposed to be again.

I think situations like this are snapshots of the coming day when we see our Savior. We know things aren't going the way they should. Children are sick, wars are fought, and friends become enemies. We are constantly feeling the frustration swell. But the day is coming when the frustration will end and our faith will be made sight. There will be an eruption that day that dwarfs any stadium celebration. The shout will be for our Savior, the truest and greatest hero of all.

Livestrong?

It is one of those 'we have 70 channels and nothing is on' kind of nights. I've settled in on TLC and a show about the 759 pound man. The 759 pound man hasn't walked since 1998. The doctor just asked him how long he has had high blood pressure. I'm guessing since at least '98.

Anyway, I wish this guy all the best. I really hope the show helps him lose some weight and get healthy. What inspired this post is the guy is wearing a yellow, Lance Armstrong, Livestrong band. It just struck me as something that needed to be documented ... and this is my outlet.