Scoreboard

The other day, I went to my future cousin-in-law’s hockey game. In the beginning, there was an undeniable air of excitement, hope, anticipation, which was quickly dampened when the other team scored within 5 minutes of the puck drop. The cheering continued however, and everyone still had faith.
Our players were smaller, and a little kinder. The other team were gigantic, and refs seemed to think that it was perfectly okay if they let a little jabbing, tripping, and hitting from behind slide by unnoticed.  Eventually, the score rose higher and higher, each goal in favor of the opposition.
But our team kept going. They pushed back, and they skated hard, ignored the unfair calls, and refused to play down to the level of their opponents. And finally, they did get a goal. it wasn’t beautiful, and it seemed like nothing compared to the 4 on the other side of the scoreboard. But it was  goal. It was a small victory, and they had fought hard to get there.
And our fans were encouraging and hollering and clapping and kept on hoping. As the game wore on, most gave up. And then everyone was yelling about what they thought the team should be doing, and could be doing, and trying to rationalize why the game wasn’t going the way they thought it should be.
And in the end, the scoreboard read 5 – 1. And if anyone had come in to the arena at the moment, that is all they would have seen. The end result. A loss in their eyes.
They wouldn’t have seen how hard they fought back, how hard they tried. They wouldn’t have seen the little victories, or how they overcame the smaller things that were thrown in their way. They wouldn’t have known that half the team was sick, and still trying their very best. They wouldn’t have seen the events that led up to that end, or how they got there. Some would call those things excuses, some would call them reasons. But nevertheless, they would have judged, and they wouldn’t have seen or understood the whole story.
And it occurred to me then, how much life is like a hockey game.
When this all comes out, I know that it will be seen as a cliche, or a shock, or maybe even a little hypocritical. And people will see the end result, and how I’ve deal with things. They will judge without really knowing. Without really understanding. And they will try and tell me how I could’ve, how I should’ve, how they would’ve.
But at the end of the day, you come to realize that you are lucky, you are privileged, you are blessed. Because everything truly does happen for a reason, and eventually you will see it all unfold right in front of you. And so will those fans who never fail to show up for the next game – cheering, hoping, and knowing that you have won. Those people in your life who have always understood and supported you, and who can appreciate that sometimes a supposed loss is really a victory.