The Game

He knows too much about the game.
That's what I think when I sit next to my 8 year old son when we watch football together, his legs dangling at the end of the couch, not quite touching the floor.

Sometimes his words preempt those of the announcers while other times, he notices and observes penalties before the yellow flag is even tossed. Sometimes the things that come out of his mouth seem freakishly knowledgable, far beyond anything I may ever know or learn about the game.

His eyes remain focused, observant and both hopeful and expectant. With every play, he runs the risk of being disappointed or defeated. Yet he watches in anticipation, each play. He listens intently to all that is happening, from the crowds to the coaches, announcers and the couch spectator sitting next to him who speaks mainly to ask questions and try to understand. Every action seems to effect him as he sits engrossed in the game, surrounded by all that is.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She knows too much about the game.
That's what I think when I sit next to the beautiful 18 year old girl I just met, her slender legs crossed, intentionally unshaven so no one will touch them.

I listen to her speak about her life, choices in survival as she knows best.
I admire her honesty.
I envy her authenticity.

Sometimes she uses words I don't know how to even interpret, let alone understand. She knows more about sex, drugs, prostitution and life than I do almost twice her age...realities to her that most don't believe exist here in our perfect little city. Her experience and knowledge about this life far exceeds anything I will ever know or learn about the game.

Her eyes, dark and beautiful, are full of a past that hardens her mind, yet a future that allows her soul to dream. And hope. She is enthusiastic and expectant, while running the day-to-day risk of being disappointed or defeated. The world around her is chaos, but she doesn't see it as anything but normal. But she wonders. She never thought she would end up where she is, but she is there, nonetheless, part of a game she never signed up for.

And every inaction on my part, on OUR part, effects her as she continues to play...and live...the game, wanting out, but surrounded by all that is.