Today something triggered an old memory from my childhood. It’s one of those memories that just sticks in your head because it tells you something about who you really are inside. We believe we know ourselves, but it’s these odd moments in our lives that bring out the best and worst in us, and we actually discover our true colors.
It all started with basketball. I remember one time when I was a small kid, we were let out of school early so we could go over to the gym and watch a basketball scrimmage between some of the older boys. At that young age, what I saw was just a bunch of boys running back and forth on a court while trying to throw a big orange looking ball in a netted hoop. The goal of the game seemed to be getting the greatest number of balls in the hoop.
Their method of making the most shots seemed to be highly inefficient to me though. They kept blocking each other from making shots. If they just shared the ball back and forth, they could maximize the number of shots they made. They could easily earn more points than the scoreboard would allow in one game if they worked together, but they didn’t work together. It seemed like the real goal of the game was just to fight each other over the ball. I really didn’t understand that mindset.
As I saw more basketball games, I began to note that arguments would often emerge and people would yell at each other, especially at the referees. When rival teams from other towns came to play, the emotional flames seemed to leap even higher. Threats and insults would often be shouted, and sometimes even actual violence would emerge.
After taking all this into consideration, it seemed to me that it wasn’t actually worth it. Sports like this didn’t encourage good thoughts and positive emotions. It seemed more like war than a game, and it felt like kids were being trained to embrace bad emotions, like anger and hatred. I decided I didn’t really like sports at that point, but I didn’t dare say anything about it. I felt like I was the only person on earth like this, and what I wanted most was to be like everyone else.
Even though I didn’t like sports, it didn’t prevent me from having to play them. It seemed pushed on me. I remember one year I tried to take a different class last period. It was a class that allowed me to make things in a shop. Not enough people signed up for the class though, so they told me I would have to go back to the gym. This was very disappointing to me. Sports was considered more important than creativity and making things. I didn’t understand why.
During one of these gym classes, the defining moment that became burned into my mind forever happened. We had done lots of exercises like shooting the ball, dribbling the ball, moving up and down the court, etc. I didn’t really mind these exercises too much, but then the coach did something that I didn’t really like. He put me on the court with another player, who happened to be one of my cousins.
He wasn’t really my best cousin either. There was something about him that always made me a bit uneasy. I didn’t know what it was back then, but I later realized it was envy. I was very creative when I was young, and he hated that because he didn’t have any similar talent. I found this out because he once destroyed one of my creations and laughed about it. It felt like he was trying to make me angry, but it didn’t work. The act of creating was the enjoyable part for me, not the finished product.
When the coach put us out there, we were supposed to play each other like I had seen in the scrimmage. Basically, it was a one-on-one scrimmage. I was expected to dribble the ball down the court and try to make a basket while my cousin tried to stop me and steal the ball if possible. I found myself on the court squaring off against a kid who didn’t really like me that much in the first place. The fuel for the fire was in place now, and just waiting for the match to drop.
When the game started, I had the ball and began dribbling it around, deciding how I would proceed down the court. I expected him to try and block me and get in my way. That didn’t bother me too much though. What bothered me was the look he was giving me. There was something awful possessing him! He was right up in my face! He didn’t look like someone who was simply carrying out an objective of blocking my progress. He looked at me like I was an enemy. His face was full of hatred! It wasn’t just a game anymore.
At this point, I felt like I had two possible choices I could take. I could allow the demon of competition to enter my soul and wear the same ugly hate face my cousin was wearing, or I could tell this nasty spirit that I refuse to play games with it. I grabbed the ball in my hand and tossed it right at my opponent. He was dumbfounded at first but was soon rushing down the court to make a goal. I didn’t pursue or try to stop him.
At this point, something really crazy happened. The demon become so infuriated that it leaped right out of my cousin and into the coach. He rushed out on to the court full steam and got right up in my face, just like my cousin had done, me being just an unimposing schoolboy mind you. His face was beet red, and he was screaming at me, what the hell are you doing, Ken! You gave the other team the ball!
I was looking at him directly in the eyes at this point, because he was bent down and our faces were only about nose length apart, but I don’t remember feeling scared at all. It just seemed odd that a grown man could be so easily overtaken with this wicked fury. It’s like neither of them had any protection against it. After a moment, when it became apparent that his anger wasn’t arousing the least bit of emotion from me, he pointed to the bleachers and said, go sit down! Of course, that suited me perfectly.
I don’t really have any regrets about my choice that day. I was the one who was perfectly calm while they were possessed by negative emotions. Staying calm is a characteristic I have always tried to embody, but I still have to guard myself from these temptations trying to infiltrate my soul. In reality, there is only one battle going on, and it is entirely spiritual. Another thing I can take away from that day is that sometimes giving up is the only way to never surrender.
Note: This isn’t meant to be a rant against game playing. It is about how envy and competitiveness often lead to anger and hatred.
Do you have anger management advice? Has there been a time when giving up was your best option? Have any advice on dealing with envious people? Do you think there is a spiritual battle going on around you? Let me know in the comments, and don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe!
Ken's Life 