Superbowl week meant mining more football stories, which is fun for me since it usually ends up being an exploration into history. I feel it’s part of my duty on the ship as the oldest crewmember to inform the youngsters that things happened before they were born. Like this guy:
Be ready.
Life’s going to hit you.
Richard was born in Chicago, the 8th child of a Lithuanian immigrant who spoke only broken English, but worked as an electrician for the Pullman-Standard Railroad Company. His mother worked 50 hours a week at a laundry, and together they raised their children on the south side of Chicago, where their youngest son played football for Chicago Vocational High School.
A standout at several positions—including fullback—he was heavily recruited by college football programs across the country, but chose to remain in his home state. In his first year on the Varsity Team at the University of Illinois he was named 2nd Team Center for the All-Big 10 Conference team, and the following season he helped the Fighting Illini win the Rose Bowl, a feat they have not since repeated.
The third pick of the NFL draft sent him home to Chicago to play for the Bears, who put him on their defensive team. Over the next nine seasons he accumulated >1000 tackles, >500 Assists, 22 interceptions and 27 fumble recoveries, all while playing with an intensity and ferocity that earned him the nickname “The Maestro of Mayhem.”
He was one of the most feared linebackers in NFL history, about whom one of his opponents once said, “If I had a choice, I’d rather go one-on-one with a grizzly bear.” But Dick Butkus wasn’t being malicious when he played. He always claimed that he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, and said that “the idea of hitting someone isn’t for your ego. It’s to make them forget about the ball.” Considering that he recovered a record-setting number of fumbles and forced many more, it seems to have been an effective strategy.
Trying to make an opponent forget about, and hence drop, the ball is the goal of much military strategy. The Allies in WWII tried to get Hitler and Rommel to drop the ball by fooling them into thinking that the D-Day landings would be at Calais, rather than at Normandy. The “shock and awe” campaigns against Iraq in the Gulf War were a Butkus-like attempt to hit hard enough to get Saddam Hussein to drop the ball. It was enough to make his army drop their weapons.
Sometimes, though, Life hits us like Dick Butkus, and when it does it’s going to hurt. But even as we’re falling to the ground, if we hold onto the ball, then it will only be a momentary setback and not the complete reversal it will be if we fumble.
What things are most important to us? Are we making time for them? Time enough to take care of ourselves and our family? It’s hard to concentrate on the ball at work when things aren’t right at home, and it’s easy to allow work to distract us from things at home. If we’re juggling the ball this way, then we’ll drop it when we take a hit. But concentrating on the ball, focusing on what’s important right now where we are, will allow us to hold on tightly enough, so that when the inevitable hit comes, we won’t forget about the ball.
LET US PRAY
Lord we know that life hits hard from many directions, and sometimes seems relentless. Help us to concentrate on the important things so that we can hold onto them when we get upended. In the midst of chaos and confusion, bring your peace and harmony. In our waywardness, bring your guidance and direction. For You, Our God, are the Way, the Truth, and the Life, the most important thing to which we should cling, and it is to You we now turn, and in Your name we pray
AMEN
An Orthodox Priest Abroad 