That's Alright

I went to my nephew’s first home basketball game today. He’s one of the few seventh graders on the team. I’m not proud or anything.

The bleachers were crowded. My family and I sat in the only seats we could find, uncertain as to whether we were on the home or visitor’s side. We were on the visitor’s side.

As the man beside me became increasingly angry at the referees for what he deemed unfair calling, I became increasingly uncomfortable in my seat. I wanted the game to be over. Or else I wanted to be surrounded by like-minded fans.

Like-minded fans make tense situations feel a bit less intense.

But I stayed on enemy turf and listened to the man’s yelling—which I suppose wasn’t even that bad in the scheme of things—and I thought to myself, “Competitive sporting events give people permission to yell out their anger in a socially acceptable way. Maybe that’s what they’re good for. Because they’re certainly not good for nerves.”

And then I looked at the cheerleaders and chuckled. The head cheerleader would give a command and all the rest of the cheerleaders would chime in. Loud. In rhythm. Extremely positive.

My favorite of the cheers was the free throw cheer. After some positive words that I never quite understood, the cheerleaders would hold their hands up—one over their heads, one in line with their wastes—and do jazz hands until the free throw was released. If the ball went in the hoop, they’d chant a celebration. If the ball missed—which it did more often than not—they’d respond, “That’s alright.” Loud. In rhythm. Extremely positive.

I thought to myself, “Maybe we each need a group of cheerleaders to follow us around and affirm, ‘That’s alright,’ when we mess up.” Spilled coffee? That’s alright. Misplaced keys? That’s alright. Exploding moment of frustration? That’s alright. Really bad lesson? That’s alright.

Or if it’s not alright now,
Then it will be…
Even in enemy territory.