Our archrivals were defeated for the third year in a row. The hometown crowd was ecstatic. The pep club throbbed with choreographed gyrations as the band played our fight song and the cheerleaders ran to escort the team from the gridiron.
The bus ride back to the locker room lasted only ten minutes, but the time was filled with pad-slapping, helmet-knocking, and victory chants. People along the way high-fived with us as we stuck our arms out the bus windows.
It was glorious!
But, I had trouble sharing the enthusiasm.
It wasn’t going to be necessary for me to take a shower this evening… or any evening after a game. I rarely got to play and seldom worked up a sweat in the pre-game rituals. Win, lose, or draw, it didn’t really matter to me. I was second string and all I ever did was practice.
I’d work hard all week playing against the first string offense and defense, make the road trips, and suit up for the games…all to no avail. Come game time I played “tailback”: Every time I got near the field the coach would yell, “Gillham! Get your tail back!” After a few years of this kind of experience, I grew pretty apathetic toward playing organized ball.
I fear the same type scenario has lulled many of America’s Christians to fall prey to apathy’s leeches. The commitment to excellence and diligence in Christian living has been sucked out of them.
But why does this matter? That's next.