Bitter Ends
I'm a bit of a sports mystic; I read a lot more into games than people chasing balls around and trying to put them within fixed spaces against opposition. I once told a pastor that I thought sports showed the true measure of character: the laziness, the aggressiveness, the passion, and so many other things that we can hide when we're not competing for something.
Today I added another gem to my sports mysticism as I watched the first of two semifinal matches of the World Cup. In today's game between Germany and Italy, it seemed to show that a lapse in concentration at the end of something is so much more painful than having that lapse early on.
I would have assumed it would be the Germans to persist through the match to the very end, working like machines with the cool, dispassionate effeciency that seems to be a halmark of how so many of us think of them. When I think German I think of engineering to the very last detail. I think of being perfectionists. I think of doing things the hard way because hard means quality and quality means better. I think of cuttlery that is heavy; substantive - the antithesis of disposable, cheap paper plates that you buy for parties because you don't want to do dishes. Because it's easier.
Although I never thought poorly of them, I thought it would be the Italians who would play in spurts of passion - whose concentration would be suspect in those recuperative moments after a burst of spiritedness on the pitch. When I think of Italian I think of a brilliance that is like a Lamborghini; fast, elegant, unparalleled... and good for about 20,000 miles. I think of beauty like a Da Vinci drawing, or Florentine architecture, or a Milanese super model. Captivating, enchanting - but never something that on the surface could be equated with a doggedness, determination, or sheer force of will.
But today it was the Italians who kept their resolve, and the Germans who, after playing for 119 minutes, lost their focus and paid dearly for it. It would be one thing if the Italians had scored early, but to keep the game moving back and forth through both halfs and lose in the waning minutes of the overtime - that must be something more than a few Germans are tossing and turning over as I'm typing these thoughts.
It makes me think of the game of life and the goals I am pursuing; of how difficult it is to keep focused, to stay on my proverbial target. In the waning moments, as time expires, it's most difficult not to simply wait things out, with half a mind on what's next. But that's when the pain of the consequences of that lack of concentration will hurt the most.
12:12:53 AM 
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