Hardest Hue to Hold

Highly-acclaimed American poet, Robert Frost, once wrote “nothing gold can stay”. I’m pretty sure Frost wasn’t talking about the Los Angeles Lakers, although he was born in California. The idea of “felix culpa”, or fortunate fall, is fascinating. The Latin phrase suggests that we all endure faults in order for good to arise. I’ve thought about this phenomenon a lot lately and how it definitely relates to sports. There are times as an athlete where you feel unbeatable and unstoppable. Those of us lucky enough to find that athletic paradise are fortunate, but it seldom lasts. I was playing tennis last week and my serve was right on target. I did not miss the box or double fault throughout the first two sets. In the third set, I was feeling pretty confident in my serve. Not only was it accurate, but it was fast and virtually un-returnable. Then, it happened. Like something out of a Frost poem, I lost my gold. It was the “hardest hue to hold” and my serve basically went awry the remainder of the match. I think nature has a way of telling us we’re getting too big for our britches. We need to be brought down to Earth every now and then. I have always been concerned and skeptical whenever things in my life are going well. I am just waiting for that ball to drop. Perhaps that way of thinking is just silly, but maybe not. It’s good to be humbled and it’s important to keep things in perspective. Too often we lose sight of what’s truly important. It takes us stumbling, falling and blowing up to figure out what we needed in the first place. I’ve seen it many times in my own life where one tricky situation makes you change for the better. I believe we sometimes have to grieve and lose something in order to really gain another. “Then leaf subsides to leaf”. That’s not to say one shouldn’t enjoy the good things that happen…
A series of miserable events can lead to a better, if not the best outcome. When I was younger, I played for the worst team in Little League. I starred as the team’s pitcher and still had my hits, but suffered through losing season after losing season. You could state that our team was miserably bad. I even broke my wrist one summer and was forced to ride the rest of the season out on the pine. The next year, everything changed. The landscape of the league was altered just a bit, but it was enough to give our hapless team a championship season. I will never forget the final game of the summer. I was standing on the pitcher’s mound in the seventh inning with our team up by one run. There were two outs and a runner on second base when I induced a fly ball back to me. After securing the pop-out in my mitt, my teammates rushed the mound to celebrate our title. All I remember thinking at that very moment was how far I had come and what I had to go through to get there. My father, the Coach, embraced me. Together, I knew we both realized how valuable our fortunate fall had become. It made us appreciate the good that much more. “Her early leaf’s a flower, but only so an hour”. Albeit temporary, I had found my flower on that good old Little League mound. A sting may only last a while, but the impact is forever.
Aside from his impeccable use of diphthongs, the best part about Frost poems is they are open to interpretation. “Nature’s first green is gold” asserts that before green in nature a golden color exists. It’s always easy to take things for granted when they are good. Humans naturally gravitate to the good. How else do you explain bandwagon fans? Frost cautions us and challenges us to take a look at the blessed faults. We all have a lot to offer to the world. I think our biggest contributions stem from after a slip, stumble or fall when we learn to rise back up. The first green is gold because everything is just so; everything is right. Maybe Frost is referring to Celtics’ green. The Celtics have the momentum in the NBA Finals, but they are up against the defending champion, hometown gold. Nothing gold can stay, right? Since the first green is gold, then nothing green can stay either. Lakers or Celtics? It’s so hard to win back-to-back championships in professional sports with all the parity and the rise of free agency. No one can say whether the Celtics or Lakers will win the NBA Finals. But perhaps the famous poet Frost was on to something with his 1923 eight line poem. Interestingly, that was the same year the Yankees won their first World Series. Nothing gold can stay indeed. Even the might Yankees fall. Frost’s interpretation of felix culpa can be related to just about anything in life. Is the Lakers’ gold fading or are the Celtic greens going down tonight? Green is the assurance of life but after all, Frost did die in Boston.

Parting Points: Happy Birthday to Andy Pettitte!