There are things about this adventurous life I’ve chosen that never get comfortable.
Working nights and weekends isn’t a problem. I’ve almost learned to embrace the fact that I can never attend a concert, or a sporting event for the sheer purpose of my own amusement, the way everyone else on the planet can.
Being instantly recognized at the grocery store, the gas pump or the sobriety checkpoint is OK, too. Unless the mom, granddad or cop in question is annoyed with something you wrote, like, seven years ago.
Certain occupational hazards are fine. The whole world deals with them on a daily basis, and with a few exceptions, the sportswriter realizes that 98 percent of the populace thinks it would trade places with him in a heartbeat.
What I can’t stomach about the most draining job I’ll ever love? Seeing an injury separate a high school senior from the last chance to play the game that he or she loves.
It happens more often today than ever before, from what experience and an admittedly foggy memory tell me. Athletes are bigger, stronger and faster. They are twisting and turning, starting and stopping, giving and receiving with more force than at any time in human history.
The body wasn’t meant to engage in most of those activities. Tendons, ligaments and bone structures howl in protest. Even inside the biggest and strongest. Reminding even the most disciplined and intelligently prepared of their fragile humanity.
Three of the best high school football players in the state have missed a majority of the season to date. Two of them — Quintarian Brown of Lewiston and Kyle Flaherty of Oak Hill — probably will return and etch a storybook ending in October. Or in the case of reigning Class D state champion workhorse running back Flaherty, November.
Noah Wolfinger of Cape Elizabeth isn’t as fortunate. He used crutches and a wheelchair to navigate the artificial turf at his home field Friday night, able to serve only as an assistant coach and spiritual leader in a showdown with Spruce Mountain after undergoing reconstructive knee surgery.
I turned away. Seriously. Show me the Joe Theismann, Kevin Ware and Paul George film a thousand times before making me watch a kid who has invested so much of his life into a game, team and community that he loves not being able to celebrate it in the year when it means the most.
Don’t understand the fuss about football? Think about the diversion that has shaped your life. Strumming a guitar. Hiking or kayaking in the midst of Maine’s majestic beauty. Reading poetry.
Whatever it is. Now imagine having the ability to do it taken away for a week, a month or a year. Worse yet, ponder the possibility that you might never engage in that activity again, after having invested thousands of hours honing the craft and turning it into your baby.
There’s no adequate way to simulate the heartbreak.
Some of us cling to the faith that even the bad stuff in life happens for a reason. Maybe the reason for this rash of season-altering injuries is a lesson for all of us.
Freshman, sophomore and junior athletes: Don’t take that senior year for granted. Don’t gracefully accept that your day will come. Put in the work and lead in such a way that your coach can’t afford to keep you out of the lineup now.
And whatever success stems from that effort, enjoy it. Put it in the memory bank. Be satisfied that if it’s all taken away tomorrow, for whatever reason, you didn’t get shortchanged.
I think of two other interviews still on my tape recorder from this young season. One was with two Leavitt players who didn’t go out for football as sophomores and juniors. The other was with a Mountain Valley captain at the opposite end of the spectrum; he has started every game since 10th grade.
Though the circumstances were different, their words had a common thread. It was one of regret. The former wishing they hadn’t walked away from the game and missed a chance to be part of a state championship team. The latter wishing he had taken the game and the weight room more seriously in his younger days.
Don’t leave high school with regrets. Those three are being given a chance to finish in style. But that opportunity is never guaranteed. Ask the other three about that.
Parents and older fans, there’s a teachable moment here for us, too.
If you aren’t investing your complete heart and soul into your family, your career, your faith, or your health, what’s stopping you? The idea that “tomorrow” or “next year” are a rock-solid certainty?
They aren’t. And for some people, discovering that is an unfair, brutal awakening. Learn from that, and let it impact the way you embrace everything.
Don’t ever get comfortable. We weren’t designed to be comfortable.
Kalle Oakes is a staff writer. His email is koakes@sunjournal.com. Follow him on Twitter @Oaksie72.
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