The past few days I've sat down to blog, write, or do something other than watch all of How I Met Your Mother but have had little to no success. So I'm gonna combine the last two into a strange blog post, because they're the ones that I've wanted to talk about but just needed to focus my thoughts on them a bit.
The first was about a strange occurance that happened to me on Saturday. To earn some extra money I've been refereeing football, as I have in years past. I don't absolutely love football, nor am I a spectacular referee, but the money is there and it gets me out of the house. This is how I've always viewed this job in the three years that I've done it, but now it's coming to haunt me.
On Saturday I went out in the blazing hot sun of Boron California. Where is Boron? It's about an hour's drive from my very hot home of Lancaster into the even hotter Boron. Imagine that if someone from Hell had a winter home, but needed it to still be over 100 degrees all the time. That's Boron. Boron is the kind of place you step out into and sweat in the shade.
So that gives you an idea of the conditions. Now I'll tell you what happened. And I'll make it so even football fans will have an idea. I was on the sidelines working the chains (the things that measure the ten yards per 4 downs, as well as mark how far you've gone and how far you have to go). The play came my way out wide, and this little 6 or 7 year old kid came my way. A kid grabbed the kid by the ankles and he began to go down, and as he was another kid came flying towards the other kid. The kid on defense realized the other kid was going down, and went to the ground instead of towards the kid. They met halfway in the middle, and the runner goes down. As I normally do, I ran out to get the ball and indicate the play was over. As I did, I saw something awful. But worst, I heard something awful. If you've ever heard a 7 year old break a bone, you know what I'm talking about. It wasn't the sound of the bone breaking that I heard, but the sound of the pain as it registered in the kid's head. The first look of horror as he realized the odd angle his forearm was now taking from his elbow. His high pitched yelps still haunt me as I try to relive this. It was awful to see this kid in so much pain. A seven year old kid. It was one of the hardest things I've had to deal with. I didn't call anything against the kid who went to the ground, despite the calls for leading with the helmet, a late hit, or any other number of rules with which I'm vaguely familiar. My White hate (the dude in charge) assured my not calling anything was the right call, but it didn't make me feel any better. A kid, a seven year old kid, broke his arm and I watched it happen. I couldn't do anything, and I pissed off a bunch of people by not throwing a stupid yellow rag. I still feel awful, and it's hard for me to live it down. I just thought I'd catch you guys up on this.
The second thing that I wanted to write about was first impressions. I don't know why I wanted to write about this, but I did. It was just something that had been on my mind lately. Probably because I'm gonna be trying to make a good impression on people for the next two years. If I don't, then I have no hope of converting them. I mean, sure, there are other factors, but a good first impression certainly helps move this process along.
Now, I don't think that I make a good first impression. I pride myself on always being me. However, "me" has a very big personality. I mean, maybe it's not such a bad thing, but I realize sometimes I can be a bit much, especially at first. There will be times when my friends bring new people around and they're like "Uh, so that Tommy kid, he was kidding about (insert probably inappropriate comment) right?" I don't do it on purpose, I just don't pull my punches because I'm around new people. I am who I am, and if people can deal with it, great! If not, then I'd rather know up front than waste your time and mine. I mean, I think I'm pleasant to be around. I think I'm fun and I can be interesting to keep around, but I'm certainly not for everybody, and I get that and certainly appreciate that. But now I have to worry about that. I have to worry about making a good first impression to these random people who I am converting to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I've found a lot of happiness with the gospel, and I want to share that with others. But what if my personality is too much for people, even there? What do I do there? I don't want to lose myself on my mission, but I don't want to scare people away because of who I am either.
Anyway, this is what makes me not sleep at night. I guess I just worry too much. I hoped you enjoy reading! I'll try to post more regularly.
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