NOTE: Commentary is made as a private citizen and not as Regional Coordinator for Silent No More or Leader of Rachel's Hope, unless otherwise stated.

Saturday, October 26, 2013


The first column of the draft board will hold the name of the team that won the coveted first round draft pick (Please God....have it be me), the second for the second pick, etc. The order of the draft will be determined very scientifically. A neutral observer will pull a team name out of one hat (laughing hysterically when mine is pulled) and out of another hat, the draft position. This continues until all twelve of us are assigned. The carnage will then commence.... each one of us in our assigned order pick one player for each of the sixteen rounds. It's time consuming, gut wrenching thus the need for vino-fortification.

All combatants were finally present and accounted for. I sat quietly, perused my list of champions, and said a quick prayer, asking Him for the first round draft pick. I know I should have just said, “Thy Will Be Done”, but this is football. Vino fortified, I grabbed a handful of M&Ms, and shoved them in my mouth. The observer took the hats, reached in and called out the first team and position. There was no laugh so I knew it wasn't me..fifth round. Whew! Still in the running. He continued this six agonizing times...first round was still somewhere in the dark recesses of the hat.  I was still in hands were shaking, I took in more vino-fortification. He reached in again....chuckled and announced, “Scoobydooers”. My heart skipped a dozen beats, I mumbled another quick prayer...."draft number.......1". I almost fell off my chair. I jumped up and accepted my award. I thanked God, my husband, my children, my parents and my first grade teacher (huh?). There's only a brief celebration...the time of discernment had come. 

While the remaining losers got their measly draft numbers, I readied myself for the all important first pick. I went to grab the meticulously prepared list that was going to send me to victory and hit my bottle of wine. My vino-fortification turned into the grapes of ruination, obliterating every neatly written name and position. (note for next year...white wine). I let out such a primal scream my husband almost broke down the door. I assured him everything was fine (sob), explained I was just a little emotional. Yeah, emotional … more like doomed. Then I remembered Proverbs 16:9...which says, “The human heart plans the way, but the Lord directs the steps”. All I needed to do was take a deep breath, relax and trust He will help me mentally reconstruct the list before the draft begins. For good measure, I asked Him to forgive me for calling all the non-number one draft pickers losers.

The white board loomed on my computer screen, the dry-erase marker in my square...the first square, as I am number one.... (mwahaha).  I scribbled down names that I could remember (thank you God) and prayed again.  Then I heard, “Scooby, you're up!” yep you guessed it, now I had an abbreviated stupid name. Oh well, no time for vanity. I sat straight up in my chair, and with a commanding voice, declared my first choice....a highly respected running back that broke all the rushing records the year before. I heard groans coming out of the speakers, yep, got the good one (nanner, nanner, nanner)!  Now I had to wait for the other eleven to choose. I was wringing my hands and sweat beaded up on my forehead (you were wondering why I put on a sweatband huh?) The next guy picked a quarterback. A QUARTERBACK? No one EVER picks a quarterback in the first round. How stupid can one person be? Okay, I know, name calling is immature and I planned in advance to address my draft attitude at reconciliation the following Saturday, but a quarterback???? Not just any quarterback either....he took MINE. Now what? I knew I had another on my list but couldn't for the life of me remember his name. I resigned myself to the fact I would remember it when I heard someone else selfishly scoop him up. (sigh). 

The selection continued and fortunately the others I remembered from the list were still up for grabs. Being the fantasy guru I was, I selected another running back. No moans this time, did I miss something? Was I supposed to get a receiver? More sweat, my jersey was sticking to the chair. I was going to indulge in more fortification but didn't want to chance it...I hadn't even cleaned up the mess I had already made - there was no time for that does have priorities. This excruciating selection process went on for hours.  I won some and lost some. Along with my magnificent running back I was able to get some decent receivers and a forminable defense. My tight-ends were questionable … I drew a blank on the names… they drowned in that river of wine so I had to wing it.  One of my quarterbacks I had wanted for back-up ended up being my primary ...but that's the way the pigskin bounces. I finally had a team, the mighty Scoobydooers. One week to showtime. Again I prayed, "Please God, protect my players from injuries during the last pre-season game".   



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