I was sitting with the Baker soccer die hards on Saturday at Park University nervously enjoying a slim 2-1 lead when the unthinkable, yet devastatingly predictable happened. With four minutes left in the game a Park forward delivered an Oscar-worthy performance in our penalty box screaming “foul.” The stripes awarded them a phantom penalty kick, which they converted, to tie the game. Feeling disappointed, but still pleased to be drawn with the 15th ranked team in the country, our blue and orange army sucked it up and prepared to leave. Then, with nine seconds to go, a player whom I feel quite certain is an illegal alien dropped a 35-yard wonder goal to beat us. Nathan Chiarelli yelled and Zac Kliewer cried. I simply cursed the heavens.
Jeeeeeesus, I blasphemed aloud. Why does this always happen to us? Seriously, two own goals in consecutive games in the preseason followed by a terrible penalty call in our opener? Is this some sort of sick joke?
Suddenly, faster than you can say “Smith should go to church” I was zapped upward out of my seat at Julian field toward the heavens. When I came to, I was standing on a cloud inside a sports fan’s utopia. A heavenly ESPN zone if you will. There were free-standing 90-inch plasma screens to my left, arcade sports games to my right and a Madden 2012 tournament behind me.
Holy…
JC: Don’t finish that young man.
Slowly, I turned around to face none other than the Big Man himself. He wore a flowing white robe and a backwards Anaheim Angels hat. On his feet I was surprised not to find sandals, but a pearly pair of Chuck Taylor’s.
Detecting my shock, he told me he had just finished up a dunk contest with a couple of the apostles.
Me: Did you win?
JC: I’m Jesus Christ, man.
I am such an idiot. Before me stands the man who has the answers to all of earth’s questions and I start with that one.
Me: Wow, I have so much I want to talk to you about. Where do I start?
A shouting and shoving match has just broke out at the foosball table behind me. Moses just launched the ball across the room refusing to play until John the Baptist stops doing “spinsies.”
Realizing that I was keeping the Holy One waiting, I turned and began my interrogation.
Me: I can’t believe you’re this big of a sports fan! Who are your favorite teams?
JC: Saints and Angels.
Me: What about college?
JC: The Providence Friars.
Me: Naturally. Hey speaking of college, are you the reason behind all the Cinderella teams and buzzer beaters in the NCAA tournament?
JC: I am the reason behind everything. But yes, one of my biggest thrills is busting people’s brackets and letting girls who pick the games according to who has prettier colors win your guys’ pools. Mary Magdalene always wins ours.
Me: Fair enough. Hey, how come you let bad people do great things in sports? Like Barry Bonds? I mean come on, we all know he used steroids.
JC: He’s on my fantasy team.
Me: What about my Royals? Will they ever get back to the World Series?
JC: I stopped doin’ miracles after water into wine, kid. Why don’t you ask me what you wanted to ask me in the first place?
Me: I guess I have been complaining a lot lately. I just don’t understand how it seems like the Baker soccer team keeps getting shafted. We’re a talented, hard working team, why can’t we seem to catch a break?
He opened up his online database of collegiate soccer teams.
JC: Let’s see, Baker University, let’s see…Ah, here it is. Yeah, you guys are forgetting to have fun.
Me: Seriously God, you bring me all the way up here and give me a Mickey Mouse answer like that?
JC: I am serious kid. You guys are pressing, forgetting what the game’s all about. Look at Ronaldinho. He’s always got a smile on his face.
Me: So you’re saying if we keep working hard and remember how fun this game is that we’ll start catching some breaks?
JC: That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t you trust me?
Satisfied, I prepared to be sent back to earth.
Me: Wait wait wait! Why is Lindenwood and Park always so freakin’ good every year?
JC: Well Smithy, you can’t tell anybody this, but I figured I should give them a couple good seasons before they’re all deported.
With a smile, he whooshed me back down to earth. After I landed I looked across the field to see my devastated team beginning to load the bus. In my hands I prophetically held the November 2nd, 2007 issue of the Baker Orange. The headline read, “Baker avenges Park loss in National tournament.” The sticky note attached said “Keep your head up and big things will happen…
-Love, God.”