Dodge Ball and Sunsets

We have so few school days remaining that I don’t even need my toes to count them anymore. With such little time left before summer, why not spice things up by conducting a Middle School Spirit Week? And, having set out to do that, what could engender more spirit than a few friendly rounds of dodge ball? So science I did not teach today, for a dodge ball referee I must have been.

I recently did some baking. After gloating about the goodness of my cake-baking efforts, I must confess that the second of my weekend baked creations was nigh egg-less. Just prior to transferring the batter into the pan, I remembered that I had not included eggs in the mixture. In remedying that problem, something strange happened: I cracked an egg, and two yolks came out. Interestingly enough, we had been talking about twins during my last science class prior to the weekend. I can’t wait to tell my students that I baked a cake out of would-have-been fraternal twins. But that revelation was put on hold for a day, due to dodge ball.

I got to thinking about dodge ball. It was one of my favorite sports in gym class as a kid.

(Does dodge ball constitute a sport? I’ve wanted to form a league for years.)



Today, however, I made some sobering realizations:

• Dodge ball rewards people for launching projectiles at others.
• In fact, the only way you lose when hurling missiles at people in dodge ball is when you get caught.
• Due to the scale of most dodge ball games, removal from the game often hinges on the Honor System.
• Spirited middle school students sometimes forget about honor.
• The miniscule amount of teamwork involved in dodge ball typically pertains to annihilating those who have survived the longest.

None of this seemed fair to me.

Much later in the day, when middle school students were off being spirited somewhere else, I sat in close proximity to the field where the dodge ball skirmishes had occurred in the morning. I looked out over the ocean and took in a breathtaking sunset.

Later on, it occurred to me that anyone who had been on the dodge ball field could have watched the same sunset, had they been present in the evening. It wouldn’t have mattered how many projectiles they’d thrown, whom they’d annihilated or whether they’d been honorable. The sunset still would have been there.

That’s grace.