Olympian Jackstone 08/26/08

Olympian Jackstone
By: Maria Reylan M. Garcia

When I was in elementary, there were only three things that
intermittently disrupted my youthful enthusiasm. These were three
things that were far more traumatic than a 10 inch stain on my white
school blouse or losing in a jackstone match. Number one was
Mathematics, for I was highly gifted in getting low grades for that
subject. Number two was blushing in front of a guy whom I thought to
be a human version of an anime bishounen. Finally, Number three was
filling up an autograph. Among these three problems, the first two had
already been coped up with after getting a best in math award in high
school and moving on with a more realistic love life. Number three
remains to be one factor that may disrupt the process of self
actualization. Answering an autograph is not big of a deal; it is
actually cool and gossip wise because you would know many important
facts about someone: how she defines love, the name of his crush, and
their most embarrassing moments. But, whenever I reach the question:
"What are your Sports", every minute dimension of my being losses
every bit of self esteem. I love sports, but it never learned to love
me. I kept on waiting for seventeen years, but it seemed fate had been
harsh.

From then on, I would just write the words "I'm a weak leg at sports"
and happily proceeded to the next questions. If only jackstone was a
sport, I could have made a long essay on how I got passed beaking one
to seven, falling stars and double falling stars. But seeing at how
uncoordinated the rest of my body movements are, I still enjoy
watching and remaining satisfied sitting on the audience bench. I
still find awe in the power of adrenaline rush flowing through the
vessels of a determined runner, sprinting towards the finish line. I
still see beauty in the dripping viscous sweat of a basketball player
under positive momentum for a three point shot. I still love sports.
Two weeks ago, even if midterm exams found happiness in hauling the
strength out of me, I still can't overcome the driving force to stop
for a few minutes and peek at the television for the live stream
coverage of this year's Beijing Olympics. What struck me were neither
the competitions nor the good looking athletes like every Olympics
does, but the lesson that sprouted in my idealism after the three hour
opening program starring the 15,000 performers.

I desperately dreamed of taking the next flight to China and witness
the spectacular show of creativity and elegance. The amazing fireworks
display, technical and visual effects, the harmonious music, these
jam-packed in one stadium they called the Bird's Nest. Yet, my jaw
couldn't stretch as wide as it already had, during the magnificent
performance of some thousands of Chinese performers forming huge
pictures of doves, sceneries and Chinese characters using themselves
to complete the formation. It was a ten month preparation, and it
indeed paid off after receiving global admiration. But, it was not
really the effect and the outcome of their ten month-training that
wowed me, but it was their ten month training itself. This year's
Olympics showed me that great extravagant masses come from a small
nodule of discipline.

Sports teach life a very important lesson; you can perfect and master
its course through discipline. Everything starts from learning how to
control. A world champion boxer wouldn't have gone home with a
multitude of title bearing belts without experiencing several years of
intense training, diet, and strict schedules. Some people say
champions are made of strong visions and dreams. I say, everybody has
them, everybody has dreams and visions. Yet, not all of them can reign
on the risers as gold, silver or bronze. It is discipline that
transforms these visions and dreams into actuality. The same goes to
simple day to day living. Every student has the vision and dream to
graduate or even to top their batch, but some special others decided
to sprinkle their dreams and visions with discipline and worked their
way out to academic excellence. Every laborer has the vision and dream
to reach a good paying job or a promotion, but some special others
decided to garnish their dreams and visions with discipline and earned
their way to leading companies or even owning them. Being full of
creative ideas and unique philosophies is worth a round of applause.
But, channeling these with a firm discipline towards making them
concrete is worth a standing ovation.

I may never be at the same court playing with the Olympic athletes.
It's fine, I can live with it; I am contented seeing them on
television. It's okay; I can live another seventeen years and more
writing the same phrase on autographs. Yet, I'll be surely playing
with the same discipline each Olympian has. Playing on the court
called life. I admire all athletes. I salute all who plays with
discipline.

I hope one day, they make jackstone part of the Olympics.