GLORY

               I have a great appreciation for athleticism.  I can trace the roots of this reverence to 1969.  That is the year we moved to Abilene, Texas.  I was the “new girl in town” at Madison Junior High.  Actually I was still the “new girl in country” since it hadn’t been very long since we moved back to the U.S. from Japan.  I may have been a proud American who looked like an American and spoke like an American, but everything about my school was totally foreign.  Like most 14 year old girls, I wanted to belong.  I looked around my new little world to see who seemed to personify greatness, and realized it was…Jazen Wood.  She was tall, blonde, athletic and beautiful. 
She played volleyball competitively and was a cheerleader, and most importantly, she “belonged”.  This was surely what I should aspire to!  The evidence of her greatness was worn proudly on an athletic sweater with a giant “M” emblazoned above its pocket.  I decided then and there that I too would have a garment that displayed my greatness.

          My first shock came when I learned that you only received a “Letter” if you played a sport.  This was a predicament.  The only sports for girls were volleyball and cheer-leading.  The cheerleaders had been selected the previous year, and the volleyball I was witnessing at Madison was so much more competitive than anything I had ever seen before.  These girls were tall and ruthless and had been playing for years already.  I was not likely to grow any taller, nor reach the level of skill that these girls had attained in just a few short weeks. I shelved my goal for the moment, but did not forget it.          The next year was Cooper High School.  I was no longer the “new girl”, but the sports options were still limited.  I attempted to learn to play Tennis, but my potential was no better than with Volleyball.  I made many wonderful friends, served in Student Government, was active in drama and many other activities.  But I wanted to wear my greatness emblazoned on a jacket.  It seemed I had no options left…until my senior year.  That is when the state of Texas began to give girls more opportunities in sports.  I heard the announcement over the loud speaker that Cooper was to have a girl’s track team.  I was giddy with excitement.  It was still early spring and I could anticipate the feel of that warm jacket. 

          I joined about 20 other girls out on the track after school that day, and the workouts began.  Sprinting, jogging, sprinting some more, practicing passing batons: the endurance game began.  No matter how hard it was, or how many other girls dropped out, I never would.  In my mind, I could see that jacket, enticing me to continue. 

          One tragic afternoon after running until my legs cramped up (again) I learned a very disturbing fact. Bill, who

worked out with the track guys at the same time we were trying to organize our girls team, explained one horrifying detail to me. Being on the track team was not sufficient to earn a letter.  Apparently, you actually had to excel.  Winning and placing in your event would earn points which would be tallied at the end of the season.   Those who earned enough points would receive their letter.  The beautiful image of the enticing jacket began to morph into a taunting loudmouth. The jacket was moving farther and farther out of my reach!

           With some helpful coaching by Bill (who obviously felt sorry for me after destroying my hope), I began to be competitive. And when the season ended, I was one of the first four girls to letter in track at Cooper High School.  I had done it!  I would have a letter jacket!  Of course, it was now well past spring, and down-right hot in West Texas, but I would have my treasured jacket forever.  I would take it with me to Baylor University and impress everyone with my “Jacket of Excellence”. I would show it to my children and they would weep with emotion over the pinnacle of achievement that it represented!

          Did you know that High School letter jackets are an unspoken “NoNo” on a University campus? Did you know that when one doesn’t wear a jacket, one can easily loose it? Somewhere between Waco and Abilene, Texas, is a High School letter jacket that was earned with blood back in 1973.  I sometimes think about the time and effort that I spent on something so fleeting, and I am convicted about the lack of time and effort I spend on things of real and lasting value.  To me, the missing letter jacket is a symbol of misplaced values.  What I achieved when running track my senior year was truly valuable, but it had nothing to do with a jacket.  I was forced to exercise determination, focus, and hard work which turned out to be the reward itself.