It’s been a hard week.
I’m sure these are trying times for everyone in some way or another. So much is uncertain, so much we cannot control. It seems to weigh down on us, and it has been taking its toll on me.
So the best thing I can do is to remind myself of what is good, and of the memories that will soon again be had.
Last year I wrote a piece about what it felt like to win the Grey Cup, and I claimed the reason we won the Cup was not only because we were very talented but because we had love, and because of that, we were champions.
I would like to expand on that and those teammates on the field with me.
I think that what I am feeling now is what we sometimes feel in big games, in high pressure situations. Where we want an outcome in our favour so badly, but have no real control of the outcome, rather only control over how we react to the situations presented to us.
And when I speak of “we had love” I don’t mean it was gushy or sweet or anything like that. It was the love that kept us accountable. It was words we didn’t want to hear, trials we’d rather not endure, and most of all the sacrifice of self-interest and the death of the idea that “my way is the right way.”
We come into camp trying to make the team, it’s a very selfish time. It has to be, because you are trying to earn a spot. There is no team yet. The team is being born, developing in the womb of those white lines, day by day.
Then suddenly, you are pulling pads over your shoulders and your last name is lettered across that blue and gold jersey and you are now part of a unit, and you have a role to play.
Each week, you get to know your teammates. You see they struggle with things off the field. You see that they don’t always have the energy to perform their best, and suddenly you see yourself picking them up, saying to them, “I got your back today. I’m bringing the energy today. What do you need? I GOT YOU.”
And we have BBQs by the river, and laugh and tell stories and reminisce on seasons past, and watch as the murky river flows south to where our homes are, where there are kids missing us and loved ones and parents supporting us.
Football is a hard relationship. It is daunting and exhilarating, up and down every week. It is not for everyone. You must be willing to ride the roller coaster.
This I do know: we love and care deeply. We do it week in and week out with injuries, with off-field stress, with heartache and heartbreak, and we do it because we care so much.
Sometimes it gets ugly; fights, scuffles, arguments. It happens because where there is love there is frustration, there is a desire to see things through and see them flourish, and when those speed bumps occur it is maddening.
Yet, we do what is necessary to come back, regroup, and go on with the task at hand. We know what we want, in the end, to accomplish.
We had this kind of love, and not only for each other. The guys on this team carried it off the field, too.
One of my favourite days of the week, was Day 3 – the last day of practice before our travel day. It was a closed practice so the only people in the stands were the families of the players, and when the final whistle blew and we circled around to stretch, the kids would come rushing down, putting their daddy’s helmets on, running around laughing and playing with the other kids, giving out dozens of high-fives to the team.
I loved to watch how my teammates’ demeanors changed, how their eyes softened, how they spoke to their precious kids.
If you are lucky enough to be there you begin to understand things, to gain perspective on an entirely new platform of life.
You understand why they endure so much pain.
You see how much love they carry.
