Story: The Spirit of the game
The young boy was in tears. He had been practicing for many
months for his school’s badminton tournament but he had lost in the very first
round.
His opponent had beaten him so comfortably that the boy
felt completely demoralized when he returned home.
His father who was a former champion of the game saw him
entering and putting on a long face. So He asked him-“How did the match go? Did
you have fun?”
The boy replied-“I lost and I have had enough. I am not
going to play the game anymore. I will always lose!”
The father said: “But playing a sport is not about winning
or losing.”
The boy quipped: “It is easy for you to say that. You
always won! How can you say that the game is not about winning?”
The father replied: “Aah! I use to think the same way in
the beginning. But everything changed after I saw the perfect match. ”
Anxiously, the boy asked: “The perfect match, really? What
happened then? Please tell me”
The father smiled and gestured to the chair next to him:
“Of course. I would love to. Have a seat and listen closely-
Many years ago when I was your age, I had got an
opportunity to see the women’s finals of a national tournament. I was very
excited as my coach had told me that both the players were amongst the best in
the world and one amongst them was someone who had learnt the game at my home
court.
I had gone there just to see her play and learn from her.
So, I found a seat for myself that gave me a complete view of all her movements
and I had even brought a scribbling pad to jot down my observations. And
finally, the announcements were made-the referee and line umpires had taken
their respective positions and the final game of the tournament began:-
“The player descended unto her
court. She then closed her eyes for a moment. And when she opened them, her
entire world - with all its chaos, anxiety and excitement had vanished.
She walked to the center and
with a silent nod acknowledging the presence of her opponent (who would soon
witness the spectacle). She then took her stance. She did not feel the
aggressive fire within her that normally accompanied the adrenaline rush.
Instead she felt an altogether new emotion, as she said a small prayer to the
mother, - A slow cool fire arose within, cloaking her entire being. Every cell
in her body spoke of only one word - Love. And the game began -with a love for
all.
Everyone watched stunned, for
never before had they witnessed such a performance. It was not a match.
It was a dance - A dance of
force and love in consecration to the lord. Every stroke was beautiful in
itself - deliberate and complete. The fastest of smashes and the most delicate
of drops both conveyed the underlying fluid grace.
And her rhythmic movement - had
a music of its own. She was nobody's nemesis, even her opponent felt no
despair. For they were both very much a part of the duet of forces- which
brought joy to every eye that could see and every ear that could hear.
Everybody was a part of this - this glorious moment that would remain frozen in
time. There was no Loser.
There was only one winner - The
manifesting spirit of the game and that winner was the one in all. In the eye
of the player who won the final point. In the eye of the other player who felt
grateful to be a part of the event. And in the eyes of the spectators who
witnessed the joy of being a part of it.
And that son, was the perfect game. It was neither about
winning nor losing. It was about the blossoming of the inner spirit, about
progressing physically and mentally towards perfection. And that is how any
game must be played!
Now, I believe I won’t see you crying again just because
you lost a match, will I?”
The boy said with a bright smile: “ Of course not. Okay
then, I think I have to go now. I will be back soon.”
The father asked: “Where are you going now?”
“I have to go watch the rest of the tournament and cheer
the other friends of mine who are playing. Bye now” – grinning cheekily, the
boy ran back to the court.
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