More On Sports

Being in the ministry these many years (since 1959) I have heard a lot of dumb statements concerning religion. At the top of my list is the inane statement, "I just don't believe in organized religion".

Someone with this kind of a mentality surely believes the earth is flat and the universe revolves around the earth. A statement such as this guarantees that my face will go red, my temperature rise, and foam flow freely from my mouth. I am ready to fight and poke somebody's eyes out. It is not the theological inanity that bothers me; it is the stupidity of such a statement. Let me illustrate: I don't believe sports should be organized.

Now just hold on! Think of it. A game, which has no rules. Envision a basketball game using a football. Or a golf tournament using baseballs. A pool table with no pockets. (Would it then be billiards? Remember, I am not a sports nut).

Here is the game. Held in a stadium, the players, any number from three to forty or so, meet on the field. Someone from the stands is elected to throw up the coin for the first something or the other. The ball is round and players all wear ice skates. Or maybe some of them have roller skates or skis. Remember this is unorganized sports.

The ball is kicked, passed, dribbled or whatever, and the teams clash. But the center has the ball !!! He is running toward the basket but changes his mind and runs up in the stands. The fans try to tackle him or guard him and the hockey sticks are flying. He breaks away and decides to go back down on the field and this time heads for the goal posts. But...wait...no! He has changed his mind again. He is heading for the exit.

There he goes with the ball. He is out on the street and knocking down civilians. He is tackled by a cop, but gets up and keeps going. There is a red light, but he runs it and leaps over a passing car. The ref following him calls a foul on the car but the center keeps going.

Where the #*&@ is he going ?? TO THE POOL! He is heading for the pool where he hopes to save the game by doing some laps.

Now before you discard this whole concept just think about it. Our government is constantly worried about our over weight, our lack of involvement in health programs and other health related issues. This non-game will solve that. Look at all the exercise and involvement that took place in this unorganized....not disorganized....unorganized game. The fans were involved, the team was involved and we all felt better when the non game was over.

Now, I ask this jerk who disparaged "organized religion", how about applying that rule to our favorite sport? Huh? Huh?

Some Thoughts on Basketball and Other Silly Games

I graduated from high school in 1947 and immediately went into the Navy. After my four-year hitch, I entered undergraduate work leading to the Ministry. From seminary I entered my first church.

Not much time for sports in that kind of track. But, I never cared for sports anyway. It bothered me that there were winners and losers. Of course that is a cop out; I was really just too lazy and noncompetitive to mess with something like sports.

It was a shock to my system to leave the sheltered halls of academia, enter the real world and discover that it wasn't "God and Country", it was in fact, "basketball and country". I didn't realize that South of Springfield, IL, "On my honor I will do my best to do my duty to basketball and country and to obey the Scout law, to keep myself morally clean and attend all the basketball games".....Basketball was more important than eating, working, making love, or any to those other normal pursuits.

I could have blissfully gone through my whole life not knowing or caring that this fanaticism existed in this part of the state (and I have discovered later in the whole country). Had it not been for some unknown English teacher quitting in the middle of the term. I received my educational credits at Southern Illinois University and subsequently applied and received my teaching certificate for secondary education. When they lost the teacher someone remembered that I was certified and since I was ONLY pasturing a small church there in town, I had plenty of spare time. So I took the job, sophomore English teacher. That was not my major, but who ever teaches their other than Physical Education folk?

The only reason that I knew anything about English was that my father was a grammar fanatic. Then too, when I was ready for graduation from SIU, I received a notice that I had neglected to take the English examination on entering the program. I could speak it, but didn't know the mechanics. But, there was a retired Latin teacher in town and I tutored for a year and then passed with flying colors.

Now this all positions me for my disastrous career as Timekeeper. Mr. Barnes, the freshman English teacher and Basketball Coach (at the mention of his name and title, will all bow their heads in a moment of reverence and awe) asked to see me at lunch.

"We just lost our timekeeper and we are in the middle of playoffs. Could you fill in for the remainder of the games?"

"Mr. Barnes, I would like to help, but I don't even know how many innings or holes there are in basketball".

Showing that he was an all around good guy and appreciated a joke when he heard it, laughed..... Until I convinced him I was serious. Had I said that God was dead, he could not have been more shocked or distressed to know that just across the hall from him sat a teacher who denied the existence of Basketball. Recovering himself in record time he assured me, "Mr. Owsley, you don't need to know anything about basketball to be timekeeper. All you have to do is push the bell button when the referee blows the whistle."

Well, I had two graduate degrees; I guess I could handle that job.

So I started going to basketball games in the middle of the playoffs. Fortunately my sophomore kids sat behind me and every time I was supposed to press the button, they kicked me in the back. So, from game to game I did my job without flaw....more or less.

Then came the event which ended my promising career of TIMEKEEPER. Remember that it was the playoffs? That night was the final game. We were playing our traditional rivals from down the road. It was as tight a game as one could imagine; a situation worthy of John Gresham or Alfred Hitchcock. We had been tied for about half an hour. They make a basket; we make a basket. We were in overtime; they made a basket, we made a basket. The stands were going wild (a little sports reporter jargon there). Finally, it was agreed by the refs and the coaches that this time period would be the last and if it ended the game in a tie, so be it. Now if I don't get all the terms or rules in proper place, forgive me, for I still don't know much about the game. The enemy made the first basket and was successfully keeping the home team (my group) from getting the ball near the basket. The kids were going crazy. The BOOSTERS CLUB was collectively foaming at the mouth, several fathers had committed suicide, and about fifteen mothers had fainted. The teachers and administration were chewing on their fingernails, their lips and a few even had their shoes in their mouths biting them. So you get it! Things are tense.

For the first time in the playoffs I HAD MY EYE ON THE CLOCK. I hadn't noticed it before, but one of my sophomore kids pointed it out to me. Tick tock...tick tock...The second hand was about four seconds from the cutoff time. We still had not gotten the ball near the net and in fact had been forced back beyond the 50 yard line (I told you I didn't know anything about the game).

Our kid had the ball, looked at the clock, stopped running and from beyond half court threw the ball at the basket ..........the buzzer went off and the ball went through the hoop.

It was like State and Randolph or Times Square after WWII.

BUT WAIT......WHAT IS THIS?????

There is a meeting of all the coaches and umpires on the floor. There is screaming, gnashing of teeth, tearing of robes. The gym becomes deathly quiet. SOMETHING IS AMISS!!!

They reach some kind of agreement and here the whole bunch come toward ME!

"Mr. Owsley, where was the ball when the buzzer went off ?" This from the head ref.

I broke out in a cold sweat and the eyes of the entire gymnasium were on me. I was the center of attention and I wished I were dead.

I closed my eyes and collected my thoughts and raised my hands in the air as if about to launch a basketball (which I had never had in my hands in my life). I moved them slowly forward and said, "The ball was at this point when the buzzer went off". I didn't know what I had done, but there was screeching and hollering, crying and cursing. All of it aimed at me. WHAT HAD I DONE?

I had called the game and our school lost the series.

Years later I found out that the refs had no right to ask me to make that kind of a decision. But what did I know.