#307: Rooting for Others

I happened to be there to witness the story Amanda tells in her blog. I remember sitting there thinking, realizing, being humbled by a glimpse of the invisible link that runs between people. Having been a bystander of what transpired, I silently noted and walked away considering that maybe, I have a bigger impact than I may perceive and maybe, the people in my life do on me as well.

- Christina

Rooting for Others

My boyfriend Oscar and I joined a soccer team a year ago with a group of about 25 other guys, and now we play pick-up every Sunday morning. Over time, I became close with a few players on the team. I was grateful for these new friendships. Not only did we share many talks and laughs throughout the games, but sharing conversation over cold beers at the local brewery in town post-game became part of our Sunday routine. 

Despite the bonds I was forming, there was one man I never really felt connected to. The name I will use here is Ricky. Each week, Ricky and I were somehow always placed on opposing teams and both played midfield. So it felt like we were constantly butting into each other (literally) or guarding one another. The opposing teams and positions, combined with each of our innate competitiveness, often led to a little tension on the turf, and somewhere along the line I concluded that he didn’t like me.

Because Oscar and I were in a long-term relationship for two years and we consistently engaged with this crew on a weekly basis, everyone saw our relationship progress first-hand. it was like we were a "packaged-deal." Wherever I was, he was. And whenever one of us scored a goal, there was a good chance the other made the assist. If Oscar was late, everyone asked me where he was. And vice versa. 

After two amazing years Oscar and I, healthily and mutually, decided to part ways last month. And he wasn't at our last game. I think just about every team member came up asking the usual question, "Is Oscar coming?" But this time, I didn't know. They immediately knew something was up that day as I walked on the field. He never showed, which I guess didn't surprise me. What surprised me was what occurred at the brewery post-game with everyone else.  

On this lovely spring day, we sat outside. Ricky sat across from me for the first time. When I turned his way, he asked the question of the day:, "Where's Oscar today?" I laughed and said I didn't know! Yet again. And my sister and I joked that I should just hold up a sign to save my voice and time. ‘“I no longer know Oscar's whereabouts! Please refrain from asking.”

But despite my smile and playful attitude, when I turned back to Ricky a minute later he had a different look on his face. Was it sadness? Shock? Disappointment? One of our mutual friends had filled him in (so I didn't have to mention any details) that Oscar and I had decided to take some space. And Ricky seemed to now be quietly taking in that information.  

I felt confused by his reaction and his expression, which was drastically different from some of the other louder guys that didn't take it to heart. I mean, why would they? So why did Ricky, out of everyone, be moved by this?

I asked him if he was okay, honestly unsure if his reaction was an act. Some of the other guys then started chiming in and making jokes about him seemingly taking this news hard.  

But then another guy asked, "Are you crying?!" 

I glanced back his way, and there was a tear running down his cheek. Someone quickly gave him a napkin and he wiped his face.  

"I just can't believe it." He said quietly, forcing a smile to ease the discomfort. "I was really rooting for you two."  

I couldn't believe my eyes or ears at that moment. Not only was my first impression of this man entirely wrong. Not only did I misconstrue that he didn't like me. But this person was actually rooting for me.

I still don't know the full extent or reasoning behind his strong emotional reaction that afternoon because he actually left shortly after. But I do know one thing:

I am now more conscious of not jumping to conclusions about anyone. 

Not all people show they care with the same words or questions or actions. And most importantly, I guess I never know who might be looking out for me in life. I had crossed paths with this person every week without sharing a single word, yet he was a silent cheerleader who was sending quiet well-wishes to me. Well, to "us" in this case. 

I still don't know much about him or his mind, but I am glad I got to see a small glimpse of his heart that day.

And I feel grateful for the small awakening it caused in mine.