There are lots of ways to talk about the relationship between sports and religion.
The opening scene of Bull Durham comes to mind. As does the cultic quality of America’s obsession with football.
Sport as the center of personal and communal piety has a long history in many cultures, with the U.S. perhaps—to keep the competition motif alive here—winning the prize for the world’s most zealous devotees of the faith.
My nephew is a walking question mark. What’s for dinner? When will my daddy get a job? Will Grampa live to be 100? He does not know it, but his questions sound a lot like the ones that pop up in my news feed: How safe is our food supply? What will happen to the economy? Can Medicare cope with the rising number of baby boomers entering the system?
For about three and a half years, from 11th grade until the summer after my freshman year in college, I was convinced that I was going to be an engineer. My mother worked for a civil engineering firm at the time, and so I knew what it took to be successful. I enjoyed high school physics. I was pretty good at math.
Like many parents, I’ve ingested my fair share of VeggieTales, and I confess that I have a favorite: the episode in which Larry the Cucumber plays King George, who has an irrational fondness for his outsize collection of rubber duckies.