I have always wondered how many lives Wile E. Coyote had. Growing up with the Looney Toons, I was fascinated by how many episodes involved an anvil dropping on Wile as he chased after Roadrunner. The anvil looked heavy, and I thought he had some sort of super powers to withstand its weight over and over again.
I guess I will never know if he is truly immortal or see the day that he actually catches Roadrunner. What I do know is that getting an anvil thrown at you poses a painful and daunting task. I’m not talking about actual steel anvils. I’m talking about the kind of anvils that life hurls at you especially when you least expect it.
Lately, I feel like I have been sinking under the weight of my own anvil. I was on the verge of slipping back into my TV-ice cream-TV-sleep-TV routine when God jolted me with a reality check by giving me a great weekend. I got so many encouraging text messages from friends and family, went out for a good conversation with my girls, and spent two long days with relatives for my grandmother’s 80th birthday. Then I got to watch people I love try their luck at a sport I love (rugby) and had awesome food (again) afterwards. I was refreshed, and became hopeful again. The long weekend ended with me coming home to a basketball game.
There were about 20 seconds left on the clock and the opponent was up by 9 points. Miraculously, in a blink of an eye (that is what it seriously felt like), the points slimmed to a 1-point lead and I was screaming my head off with anticipation. I was rooting for the underdogs. Unfortunately, time was not on their side and with missed shots, the game ended. That was when I had the epiphany.
Sports. I have always loved sports. I grew up in a typical Filipino family that loved basketball fiercely. One of our favorite bonding times is sitting in front of the television and jumping up and down cheering our favorite team (we only had one, except for my grandfather who refused to conform) while eating. As I grew up, I began to get exposed to different games and even played a few during my earlier years in school. Volleyball, for instance. Then for some strange reason I joined the badminton and table tennis team during my junior year in high school plus attempted to learn rugby. Point is, I have great respect for games and even though I will never be a national athlete, I will always be a fan of people who go out there and just play with such discipline and passion.
You know, say what you will about the ravages of sports in this corporate age where overpaid athletes expect prima donna treatment, but there is still something so unifying about sport in its purest form, when athletes rise above themselves and touch greatness and, in doing so, remind us all that we also have greatness inside of us. – Mouth McFadden, One Tree Hill.
The epiphany I had while watching a losing team pour out their hearts and souls into scoring no matter what, made me realize that life is a lot like sports. We all have different areas and like my underdog team, we all have victories we want to achieve. But, like my team, there are times when we are the underdogs and our opponents or the world or life in general are the heavyweights. Heavyweight, like an anvil. And in those times, I realize that it is okay to be the underdog because that is what makes the story, our life, so great and a game so wonderful to watch. It is what gives us awe as we witness the will to survive a defeat gracefully exceed the will to win. It is what draws the excitement as we hold our breath for the last few seconds. Life becomes so beautiful when we are “overruled” by the so-called heavyweights or anvils of life because we carry the hope that on a surprising day, the underdog will win.
I hope for that day, and I pray that you do too.
I may have been sinking under the weight of my anvil, but sometimes I guess you have to sink so you have room to rise. And I guess at first you really need to get beaten by the weight of it so you know how much strength you possess. And that you are a winner. You always have been.
So when life throws you an anvil, do not fret. Throw one back at it.
Glad you found something to enjoy!