Well, It Was Supposed To Be A Game

Nov 30, 2009 by winjaw

The Sons of Thunder have a visitor – a girl. (Gasp from the audience). The girl in question is the daughter of one of the best friends of the Little Black Dress and they are up for a visit.

Allie just turned eight, putting her right in the middle age-wise of the Sons. For some unknown reason, the Sons’ competitive spirits have increased.  I would never use the words “rivalry” or “jealousy” with the Sons; well, not until today.

A game is in progress – something involving about 10 balls of various shapes and sizes.  Something about putting them in a row, then running toward them, picking them up and then trying to smash someone else in the face as hard as they can with said ball.

This is not going well. There are fights and bribes involving whose side Allie is on. There are several “WAIT,” “NO FAIR” “STOP IT” “TIMEOUT” and “OUCH” and other assorted screams.

And there are starting to be a lot of rules.  

Rules about when a specific ball can be thrown. And where.  Rules about how many balls can be thrown at the victim at one time; rules  corresponding to some relationship between the size of the ball and the size of the Son. Rules regarding the force used to throw a specific ball based on how much air is in it. Rules regarding the use of feet. Rules regarding the length of “time-outs.”
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Too many rules.

We need rules in life, otherwise society faces chaos. But too many rules and the fun is gone.  And discouragement sets in, and people give up, or quit. Like with the Sons and the now rule-laden game of what started off as throwing balls at each other.

Too often the rules outnumber the players. At that point, the “game” is no longer a game, but a contest to see who can bend the rules the most to their advantage.

Instead of focusing on the rules, maybe we should flip the dog, and focus on the game. Be fair, treat others like you want to be treated, help those who need help.

And face shots are out.