Despite being asked to "pray for the president" and "give him a chance," I have pretty much relinquished any hope that any good will come from the current administration. I have been disgusted with every single executive order that has been signed on his desk this week as well as his staffing (or un-staffing) decisions, and am struggling with the psychological burnout that comes from feeling in that that "fight-or-flight/hyperaroused" and outraged/anxious state about the country and world. It's not appearing that things will be looking up anytime soon in the next four (or more) years, despite many conscientious citizens (including Republicans) trying to defend the Constitution. I know that we are less safe, less united, and that our nation's history will be forever and irrevocably altered (for the worse). I am mourning the Oval Office's loss of former president Obama, who was as intelligent and dignified a leader as this country could ever elect (and while I didn't vote for McCain, or Bush, they'd gladly be welcome and undeserving of any criticism in comparison to the offensive and greedy, malignant fascist and narcissist taking over our country and sending us down the path of destruction). This was yet another rough week for my heart.
The distraction, though? The Australian Open. Who would have believed that in such a terrible regressive start of the year for our country and also the world, we'd see some of the "oldies but goodies" shine again in the sport of tennis? I have been thankful to be able to watch some of the greatest athletes of my lifetime compete in the finals of the first tennis Major of the year to distract me from the sick horror that is following the news and staying informed these days.
Venus. Serena. Roger. Rafa. What century is this? (Can we go back to the 90s, and have a do-over, please??)
I am far more a fan of the polite, gracious, and graceful "big sis" Venus than the muscled, powerful and often-angry Serena (who, with now 23 Major titles after defeating her sister in the final is pretty unanimously considered the greatest female tennis player of all time), but appreciated the history ("HERstory") being made by both sisters-- who, by dominating their somewhat elitist sport for two decades, have inspired millions of young (especially black and female) athletes to follow their dreams.
I then watched (on DVR, as I was working a lot this weekend) one of the most historic men's finals ever, with Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal battling back and forth in a five-set, drama-filled match, before Roger (after a 6-month break for surgery) surprisingly came out on top. While I always cheer for Federer over just about anyone he plays (and especially over Rafa, whose style of play I don't really appreciate), I did NOT think he would find the energy, grit, physical stamina, or heart to beat his longtime rival (who had dominated him 23-11 overall and 6-2 in Majors) to come away with the Championship victory (and I especially doubted he'd come back when he was behind 1-3 in the final set). WOW. I was blown away by the outcome, and my heart was warmed.
For a few moments in time, there was just friendly competition and high-quality matches where the adage "may the best one win" was really true. These were moments during which we could marvel at athleticism and prowess, at the respectful rivalries, as well as understand the extreme joy and disappointment these players felt because we knew how big this was. We watched these matches and knew that these players' achievements are things that we are unlikely to witness again in our lifetimes. For one or two days, I felt nervous but enjoyed the tension, cheered on my "players," moved on when one of my preferred ones lost, and forgot about the nastiness in this world and in our country and president. I am thankful for the outlet of sports-watching, for the memories of a better time, and for the break from despair. For a day or two, all was right in the world, where experience, quality, capability, greatness, love, and respect shined through, and where there was triumph against all odds.
And now it's back to reality. And outrage. (Maybe I'll find some hope in the Super Bowl? Or I might just re-watch my recording of the fifth set of the Federal-Nadal final at the Aussie Open this year anytime I need a pick-me-up).
