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Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

Tag Archives: Rainbows

Sportsmanship in College Sports: Heckling

02 Sunday Feb 2020

Posted by Bill Watkins in College, College Sports, NCAA, Poetic Blog, Sports, Sportsmanship, Volleyball

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Tags

BYU, College, College Sports, CSUN, Gauchos, Heaven, John Wooden, Joy, Love, NCAA, Peace, Rainbows, Respect, Sports, Sportsmanship, Success, UCSB, Victory, Volleyball

Sportsmanship1

by Bill Watkins, Gaucho ‘94

***

Watching UCSB play BYU in Men’s Volleyball last night on my computer reminded me of my own playing days, and also of some great matches I’ve been a part of as a fan.  As usual, the crowd at BYU was amazing!  Spirited, a full house, generally pretty wholesome… Except, it seemed, when you got close-ups of a UCSB Gaucho going back to serve the ball, and behind them you could swear there was a good amount of venomous, mean-spirited heckling.

Could have been an illusion, and without knowing what the fans were yelling, I cannot prove to certainty that a bad spirit had invaded the Smith Fieldhouse there in Provo—but nothing would surprise me less.  Heckling and rooting for bad things to happen to opposing teams is unfortunately acceptable fan behavior in every college sports arena not ruled by an iron Christian fist.

I myself, over the years, have engaged in many heckling fests, hear hecklers around me at most sporting events I attend. CSUN in the San Fernando Valley used to be bad, Hawaii can bring it good and bad, and BYU has for me the most spirit in NCAA men’s volleyball.  It just all needs checking, administrating, and… shall I say it?  Prayer. Meditation.  Sports like all other areas of life made better by appealing to Higher Power, “Good Orderly Direction” (G.O.D.), and anything else that leads to Peace of Mind.

John Wooden was the best coach that ever lived.  Not because he was great, but because the power unto which he prayed was, his philosophies and execution of them guided by goodness, humility and hard work.  A spiritual man… We could all be so, ascend toward the straight and narrow, to in sports that grand second title, one the NCAA and other leagues should always celebrate as much as any other trophy: one for… Sportsmanship.  Respecting your opponent as fellow travelers on this ship, “Hail, friend, well met!  Good luck today, we’re aiming to crush you on the court.  But that’s our spiritual challenge, and I’d like to shake your hand after the match win or lose, revel in one more day we got to live here!”

That’s right, as you live you realize how precious life is, and how many people (and dogs) we’ve loved who are not with us anymore.  In that context, adding to common sense and decency, I root for all competitors to have peace of mind, to succeed at their sport in the John Wooden sense.  I root for the UCSB Gauchos a lot because I attended that school and played volleyball for the team, and when we compete against you, I’ll be rooting and hoping we win.  Then I check myself, knowing the power is in us to win every single match we play!  If we play right, root right, have a mix of fun and respect, and if heckle we must, may we do it somehow light-hearted and with cheer.

The ultimate victory is still heaven, isn’t it?

Wise and Soft

31 Thursday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Gospel, Jesus, Jesus said, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

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Tags

Gospel, Joy, Love, Peace, Rainbows, Soft, Truth, Wisdom, Wise

Sol’ asked for wisdom,
a wise move that turned out
well for him.

True wisdom comes from
beyond our first thoughts.

Some use prayer, some meditation,
some plant seeds, watch them
fight to fruition.

The song is sung, the praise made,
the bed is prepared, and we
reap the sown—

planting full of unknowns, our
efforts and work sometimes
with reward.

At others, we get the lesson of
the storm, the locusts come,
the drought,

the blight of uncertainty leading
to the glory of overcome obstacles
in eternity;

songs sung, the battle won, we step
up to ask, then receive the gift
of another day,

a chance to rise above the fray,
take a back seat to all that’s grey,
songs sung,

glorifying the altar that is on the hill,
waterfalls heard by standing still.

Wise like the serpent, soft like the
dove, we ask for Sol’s blessing,
the ancestors—

imperfect and sweet, like us,
somewhere between rainbow and
geese, songs sung

so we can look back, say
“We won.”

We did it, Longfellow’s hero in
the strife, heroes by trying hard,
and living life.

To Love a “Terrorist”

10 Sunday Sep 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Crime, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Terrorism

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Tags

Joy, Love, Peace, Rainbows

Good gosh, we are all just people.
The devil loves it when we label others,
divide, divide, divide.

Don’t just call it a crime, label it something
that conjures a religion, ethnicity
or way that someone dresses!

The devil in love with division, so maybe
we should think of another way to see
things, this my intervention.

People are people—crime is crime, nothing
more or less.  Crime comes from Hunger,
Anger, Loneliness and Fatigue.

There’s no excuse for crime, but neither is
there one for Judging those who commit
it, it could be you—

If you take yourself out of your comfort
zone, try a day in someone else’s shoes.
I almost chuckle at the news,

who tries to figure out in a rational way
the motive for every single bad thing that
happens, a car runs into

a crowd, those reporters often trying to
find a “reason,” like it’s written in some
book!!  It’s not, I guarantee it,

Crime committed not a reasonable thing,
so let’s stop using our brain, switch to our
hearts, begin more giving…

More foreign aid, less judging—more Twinkies,
less bombs, revenge and killing.  “Terrorism”
starts inside of us, there

is sin within us all!  To not admit that, is
to keep throwing stones in Jesus’ face,
at this or that bad man or woman,

Inflating yourself in a high for moments at
a time, making yourself feel strong, amongst
all that weakness, it’s over there!!

Not here, with me, it cannot be, ewww!  Go
away, that’s not me, that’s you!  Ewww!  You
are the devil, never mind

Mine growing in me all the time, I am afraid of
difference and change, and so therefore
pre-judge in thought called prejudice

that leads to actions that discriminate, make
moves to further not love but hate.  We must
change, or just simply wait,

Lao Tzu reminding us we cannot change the world,
so sit back and enjoy what was made by Something
not us for us to enjoy,

or go on saying that it’s all us—we are the Great
Ones that live and Create!

That turban makes me scared, their way of life
different, a different book they read, oh let’s
start grouping that group,

Let’s after another crime, keep grouping that
group until we can “eliminate that group,” and
now you are Hitler.

I don’t judge Hitler because I am a man, and am
prone to sin, but I can note that there was a point
in his life when marbles got lost,

and in the wind of despair and confusion, the devil
told him to kill a race, and he did, and he killed
himself as the story goes.

AND NEVER FORGET TO COUNT AMONG THE
DEAD OF TRAGEDY THE PERPETRATOR OF
CRIMES WHO END THE HORROR BY KILLING
THEMSELVES.

Their loss is sad, too, and if you cannot say that
I can only hope you change and pray for you.
All life is Life and valid,

It’s best to pray for and hope for all mankind to
thrive, win and love.  So while today I wear my
“Resist” T-shirt, and hope that

Bob Mueller gets somebody or other, I still root
for the orange haired man called “president,”
that God touches his life,

that we hear truth, but I do not hold my breath.

Since the prophet Samuel asked for a king so
that the Jewish people could be like “other nations,”
we’ve been in a freefall

of bad kings, leaders, false prophets and presidents
pretending to lead other people—people leading
people, the blind

leading the blind into a ditch, over the falls,
into hell, the garden of weeds, the plastic ravine,
laughing all the time,

might be God above who told us the king would
make us want to whine.  But we cannot go back to
God with words now,

The actions we take, the only way back to putting
the LORD first, judging people not… so that we may
avoid the harsh, deserved judgment

of more suicide bombing.

The waves are upon us, the storm surge reaching
twelve feet, an earthquake to the south, and we
try to hold on to our kings,

Try to with God, Higher Power, Creator compete.

We cannot.  So judge not, lest ye also be judged,
and if the press should at the “terrorist” throw
a stone, even say “coward,”

or “loser,” indeed, let’s keep our heads down,
pull another weed, our own garden needing tending
more than the community pot—

bitter leaning.

God bless us to truth, and the truth is we are
human beings (whatever that means).  Fallible
souls, scoring goals,

with occasionally since David, a beautiful song
to sing… Perhaps we can be silent until one is in
the offering.  I’ll go get some instruments,

give a song to the “terrorists” making snowmen
in the snow, trying to get a good signal to watch
a favorite show.

Ahh, they like to laugh too.  They are not “terrorists,”
unless we all are.  We are all people, dust in the wind
of a hurricane’s star.

We are all people.  Hear this, the call to you—be you,
be you, be the best you and forgive acts of hate
that could have been yours

if in their shoes you walked a day.

Peace!!  The rainbow lacking judgment, of the rain
that pelted the shore, it does not ridicule—the colors,
but reigns its shadow like love

and joy over past’s hard pain.

Grow up, we are the Same.

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