The Perfect Game

I love Rugby. Mostly I hate it. It has the ability to pull all the joy out of my world. A Test Match can feel like I am having to sit through detention at school. When the Springboks play badly. When they can't seem to catch the ball. When they seem dominant, and still lose. When we have to go through cycles of politics where it stops acting as a tool to bring us together, and becomes a tool of division.

Then there are magic moments. Often Test Matches between the Springboks and the All Blacks. Everything clicks. The game is a thing of beauty. If I am watching with friends, moments are created which we never forget. Unrestrained joy and man hugs.

Plans should be like Rugby. The rules are never completely right. We moan. We sulk through games. We can't plan what we would like to happen. We blame the ref. Then we come back and watch again. Every now and then there are moments of magic, but mostly it is about the experience of sharing the game with friends. Creating meaning.

We can't control the world. We can't even understand the world. It is hard to see a pathway to our dreams. Instead of controlling, we can agree on a set of rules. Randomly pick a shape of a ball. Draw lines on some grass. Choose positions. Put a bunch of things that don't mean anything together. Play. We can tweak the rules as we go along, believing that one day we will come across the perfect game.

There is no perfect game.

Play. Watch. Support.