Drew Sutton and I were skinny, rival players with more or less realistic hopes of playing baseball for a low to mid-level university... somewhere.
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A cage is not a place of comfort. It is a place that confines and holds and traps living things. Its steel is unforgiving; the metal shaped to imprison. In professional and amateur fighting such as mixed martial arts or kickboxing, cages are used symbolically. Two men enter as equals, but one leaves a winner and one leaves defeated. Though cages made for fighting do not hold anyone against their will, they can be just as uncomfortable and unforgiving to the people fighting inside.
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This year, I’m hanging a few lights on my rental house for the first time. Our neighborhood has been conspiring on Facebook to fill up the streets with Christmas lights, and people have been sharing lights and decorations and mapping all of the houses for people to visit. It’s a pinch of goodness in a year that most of us can at least agree has been hard.
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I’ve been hiding out from the world now for 55 days. In the beginning, there was adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I made lists of projects and hopeful homeschool schedules and age-appropriate chore lists written in marker on index cards. Like a lot of us, I heaped pressure on myself and everyone around me to do better and become something better while we had so much unbroken time. We aren’t in the beginning anymore, are we?
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