I have become the player to be named later.
I loathe plagiarism - in writing, but not in the theft of ideas. Being an advocate of Steal like an Artist, I believe that if we take the ideas of someone else, then spin, turn, and adapt them, they can become our own. We are actually giving the original artist love when we do this. One concept engenders another, ideas being reborn in a reformat.
Okay, where am I going with this? While teaching Film as Literature, we watched 10 Things I Hate About You which embodies the ideals I have laid out for you above. This is due to the fact that 10 Things is based on (in some cases loosely and others directly) William Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew. I could go on and on about the ways in which they correlate, but thats not why I am writing this.
There is a scene where Kat Stratford, 10 Things protagonist, speaks with her father, Walter Stratford. He is lamenting the fact that he is no longer a big part of Kat’s life, that she has not needed him for a long time and as she is headed off to college, this situation will only become worse.
“Walter Stratford: You know fathers don’t like to admit it when their daughters are capable of running their own lives. It means we’ve become spectators. Bianca still let’s me play a few innings - you’ve had me on the bench for years. When you go to Sarah Lawrence, I won’t even be able to watch the game.”
As a baseball guy, this adage resonates…because I am going through some of that right now. Lets be cloying and take it a little bit further - I am that player that is on the downside of his career, having enjoyed his peak years in the sun, having experienced those 15 minutes of fame that everyone talks about…and knows they will never have those moment of glory ever again. That player often becomes reticent about their future because they are aware of the fact that the end, while not right now, is not long in coming.
I like to think that I have had a positive impact on my son. I know that I have had so much fun its crazy. I can remember all of the moments - the tickles, the belly laughs, the way his arm feels around my back when I picked him up and hugged him - its all right there in my mind. I can see it, hear it, and feel it. It is so poignant that it can overpower me emotionally when I think about it. I want to go back to those moments and relive them in the same joyous way I experienced them the first time. What I would not give to lay on the floor and play legos again.
I know I can’t.
Now he isn’t around as much; sometimes barely at all. Busy. A lot. He leads a very full life. He is driven and he chases his dream as hard as any student I have ever been around. He is a pain in the ass, oftentimes appearing so self-absorbed it can be infuriating, but I know that he is an incredibly good person. He has a soft side - its just doesn’t come out as often as maybe we might like. There are so many reasons that I am proud of him, so many. I love him as much as humanly possible. The future is bright.
I am, however, occasionally struggling with the transition to a bench role, prior to my inevitable place solely in the stands.