There are beautiful rituals that cycle and make deeper impressions in memory with every pass. It doesn’t matter where or when, it matters that the space is always open to receive. And everybody does it in such different ways.
It hit me last night like it so often does: A quiet calm and the happenings around me recede. The moment comes unannounced and you are present and notice. Life is still and time is truly an invention not relevant to the space. You see your boys and feel your work, your devotion, your love, your awe for the opportunity and the responsibility. There is no good or bad for the space is immeasurable.
In a crowd of 18,000+ screaming fans at 110 decibels, it is calm and quiet. Once you knelt to tie their shoes before they had it mastered. You steered them through the maze of raving fans with a gentle touch on the top of their heads. You surrounded them with your presence, giving them a space like no other so that they could explore in full uniform and soak it in. The game was secondary to ritual—for me.
It still is. And on this night 10 years in the making, side-by-side-by-side, you watch your favorite team try to be great again. I steal glances at faces thick with stubble, strong jaws and bright eyes. When they stand, they are above me. I watch them as much as I look ahead for these moments are precious.
And, as always, I offer a silent prayer of gratitude and watch it float to the rafter, on through the imaginary barrier and into the starry night…