March
Madness
“A
person needs a little madness, or else they never dare to cut the
rope and be free.” Nikos Kazantzakis
I
remember learning a little poem in 6th grade: “March
comes in like a lion, it boisterously blows, it tilts the lily over,
and rumples every rose.” It goes on to say that March goes out on
little cat feet, but I can't remember the lines. Mrs. Garrison, who in
retrospect, I recall as a very good teacher because she included art
and poetry in her curriculum, and because she let us dance for
recreation rather than play softball, must have had us memorize this poem, else I would never have remembered even the opening lines. We
heard that lion's roar yesterday—driving rain, sleet the size of
pine cones bouncing off the pavement. It was impressive.
Unfortunately, March in Alabama does not go out on cat-feet, unless
that cat is a Bengal Tiger on steroids. Hurricane season begins the
first of April.
Today
we think of Basketball when March Madness comes up. I heard a sports
commentator yesterday lamenting the change in the game. According to him, when the NBA ruled that players need
only be 19 to play for the professional teams, the college player
pool was gutted of stellar players. Now March Madness is about teams
and colleges rather than outstanding players. I don't know about all
that, but I do remember going to games in Raleigh when NC State's
Wolfpack of 1972-73 played. It was the year Tommy Burleson, Monte
Towe and David Thompson wowed the fans with their antics. I, who had
never been a basketball fan, learned to love the game.
This
year March is packing in Easter week as well as the NCAA Playoff
games. Nothing like a little whiplash to get spring off to a good
start. We'll be screaming obscenities at the television in one breath
and praising Jesus for the resurrection in the next. Should be
interesting. And of course, this is the month of Spring Break when
all the tipsy teenagers converge on the beaches of this country. That
used to be pretty tame, too—back in the day, we converged and
danced. Nowadays, they converge and do things that would make a
sailor blush. Times change.
After
pondering all this, I think perhaps we should set our sights on
Jesus. The resurrection is safer and more elevated than all the
previously mentioned events. Easter is what we wait for all year. It
is that moment we feel the stir of new beginnings; we round the curve
of cold winter and head into the beauty of another lavish growing
season. We feel a little Spring madness ourselves, and that, my friends, is a
good thing.
In
the spirit,
Jane
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