I couldn't move on to 2005 without divulging other events that occurred in 2004. They will not be in chronological order...for fair warning. Let's get into it.
Not long after Lydia was born, the girl in my class whom I had sent the mysterious letters to, asked if she and another girl in my class could come visit her. I told her I'd ask my parents, but I was sure it wouldn't be a problem. Her ask surprised me a little because no one else at school (not even some close friends) asked if they could come see the baby. I didn't expect them too to be clear, so that's why this was a surprise. My parents gave the okay and the Saturday they chose to come, winter in northeast Ohio struck. The white fury was dashing from the sky and turning the ground entirely white. I expected the girls to take a "snow" check, but they came. And the kicker was that they didn't have a ride so they walked in the snow all the way to my house. They were in awe of Lydia and I could tell from their expressions and being able to hold Lydia that walking in the snow was worth it to them. This was one of many experiences that made me appreciate this person and her ambitions that much more.
The new school year brought new opportunities. The teacher my sister had last year, Mr. Gilbert, decided to start up a lunchtime basketball league for 7th and 8th graders. I loved playing basketball as a kid, but it was all pick-up. I didn't hesitate to sign up. While it was efficiently run, there was plenty of chaos. The teams were arranged with certain captains, but no schoolyard pick. The captains simply recruited people and took the leftovers to fill out rosters. Then during actual gameplay, there were more than five people on each team and since there weren't any coaches, the teams did all the subbing themselves. There was a specified time limit we tried to stick to so everyone got even playing time, but when kids are in control, some minutes magically lasted longer than they should've. But all the imperfections aside, lunchtime basketball helped put a few cracks in my shell.
No matter how my day went, lunchtime basketball was always the highlight. Whether I was on the court playing in front of the entire upper class (yes everyone came and watched) or in the crowd watching other teams compete, it was an atmosphere I fed off of. My peers saw this semi-reserved, nerdy kid display some athletic ability that was a surprise to some. I remember one game I went off and scored a lot of points. And because I had a hot hand that game, my team trusted me more with the ball and what I could do. The team I played with didn't stand much of a chance against most of our opponents, but when we finally got our first win, the squad went bananas. But if you were to ask me now what made lunchtime basketball truly special? It was Mr. Gilbert sacrificing some of his own free time (which is a pretty big deal) so a bunch of kids could play basketball. He also made sure those on the sidelines had some fun by having a money ball shooting competition after games. He would tape $5 to a basketball and give kids a chance to hit a 3-point shot. First person to sink it got the cash. And if you're wondering, yes I did sink a money ball shot.
Sticking with the athletic theme, I have a PE memory that will forever be burned into my brain. Our new gym teacher, Mrs. Anderson, was no pushover. She didn't take crap from anyone and made us work. But she also made sure that PE was fun. Anytime we'd have an organized sport for PE, she'd get involved. Volleyball, kickball, dodgeball, etc. And she wouldn't hold back. By that I mean she didn't let any kid have it easy. You were going to have to be at your best if you wanted to beat her. That's why I'll never forget a single floor hockey game during a PE class. As mentioned in previous chapters, I was very good on roller blades and the Mighty Ducks were my favorite movies as a kid. And from the story I mentioned many chapters ago about playing street hockey at a local park, I never lost my love for it. So when Mrs. Anderson gave us sticks and a puck, my eyes lit up like car brights on a back country road. And to make matters more interesting, Mrs. Anderson boasted that no student had ever scored on her in floor hockey. Challenge accepted.
Mrs. Anderson split us into teams and set a goal and time limit. The time limit was in case no one scored or there was a tie. I got placed on the opposing team from the one that she put herself on. As soon as the puck dropped, it was chaos. Most kids had no coordination and swung their sticks wildly whenever the puck landed in their vicinity. While Mrs. Anderson played aggressively, she hardly played much offense because the whole point was to let the kids get the glory of the goal. But she gave no one an inch when it came to trying to score on her. She deflected shot after shot. I got a few chances and fired methodical blasts...all to no avail. I was worn, but I was going to score on her even if it meant collapsing on that hardwood floor. I quickly ran out of the action and positioned myself along the side, furthest away from her. I didn't call for the puck so as not to draw attention to myself. Then, as luck would have it, one of my teammates, awkwardly shoveled the puck over the clash of sticks. It turned up on its side and rolled like a wayward wheel that broke loose from a stock car mid-race. Now everyone knows a rolling puck is much harder to control and even harder to shoot. But I took the cards I was dealt and played them. I ignored all technique. I did not trap, set, and shoot. I simply wound my stick back and let it rip as soon as the puck reached me. The way the puck was wobbling coming in, it should've shot off wide of the goal. But that little orange puck screamed down a straight line and kissed the rubber off Mrs. Anderson's left shoe as it slid on by and between the orange cones. There were three big reactions. The first was my celebratory fist pump and shout. The second was my team celebrating as we had finally scored. The third was Mrs. Anderson shouting my name in disgust and banging her stick on the floor as I had become the first student to ever score on her in floor hockey. It was a moment I'll not forget. And the best part? I saw her 10 years later at a reunion that one of my former classmates organized and brought up that moment. She pondered for a second and then said "You know what? You may still be the only one who ever has." And she was being dead serious.
One rainy day when coming back from our last class before lunch, a certain student had a habit of tossing his book bag from the entryway straight to his desk in the back of the classroom. This time he tossed it a bit too hard and it went straight through the plexiglass window. It popped that window out and fell all the way to the concrete sidewalk below. I wish I could've been a passerby on the street and witnessed it, but the expression on the students' faces were priceless. Both the plexiglass and the bookbag were fine, and thankfully for the student, Mrs. Beam vouched for him.
The winter version of Mountain Top, Ignite by name, had once again come into play. This time it would be in Tecumseh, IN. It was held at a YMCA camp where we had bunk beds in heated cabins. My group was led by John Schneider. This Ignite would be very significant in the fact that it would be the first New Years Eve I spent away from home.
Ignite was a much smaller crowd than the 1000 person mountain top, but 600ish people was still a strong crowd. My group was different this time as well. I was paired with Mark G. and Stephan H. Every group was paired with another group for the breakout times and large activities and we were teamed up with a group from Minnesota. I didn't know these guys from Adam, but I came to know a good group of guys.
The messages for this time were something else. They were loaded with visual examples to better drive the points home. One of the first pertained to judging a book by its cover. A man was on a stool hanging a rope from the ceiling. One by one, people passed by. Each person immediately assumed he was making a hangman's noose. Before they even asked him what he was doing or tried to talk to him, they told him to stop, wait, and they were going to get help. What no person did was even look closely at the rope. Anyone who would've taken a second would've seen that the loop was too small for a person's head to fit through. The speaker explained that if anyone would've simply taken a second to talk to him and ask him his side of the story, they would've known what the rope was truly for. He then walked to the back of the stage and picked up a potted plant with a hook. He then hung the plant on the rope he had just tied to the ceiling. It was a powerful visual, especially for kids, but the fact that it still sticks with me after all these years, means it was a well established demonstration.
Another one I remember talked about turning sadness into joy and finding the hope that is in Christ. A man came out on stage wearing all blue clothing. He was extremely sorrowful. His buddy came out wearing all yellow clothing and was bright and cheerful. The man in blue lamented in his sorrows, while the man in yellow tried to cheer him up. The man in blue refused to listen and wanted to stay in his pit of misery. But as the man in yellow continued to be there for him, the man in blue began to have a change of heart. He asked the man in yellow how he could be yellow like him. The man in yellow told him to open his heart and let the Lord in. As the man in blue began to do so, little by little, the man in yellow added yellow paint to the man in blue's clothes. Slowly the blue hue began to fade, and the bright yellow began to swallow it. The man in blue's happiness level grew. Then suddenly he cried out, "I no longer want to be blue (sad)!" I want to be yellow (happy)! The man in yellow then poured an entire bucket of yellow paint over the man in blue and he was the man in blue no more. He started exuberantly shouting "I'm yellow! I feel so happy! I'm yellow! I have Christ!" The crowd let out a thunderous applause. That was one of the coolest demonstrations I had seen throughout the weekend.
Like mountain top, there were many activities, events, and small groups throughout the time. But there were two that have stayed with me after all these years. The first was a challenge in one of the big meetings. The coordinators had been watching the groups throughout the time to see who had stood out. When they selected a group from Minnesota (not the one paired with us), the crowd applauded in approval. The challenge was for one person to have both their legs in two buckets of ice water for 15 minutes. The prize? A brand new Xbox game console (which was sold out everywhere at the time). The Minnesotans selected their person and he looked built for the task. He walked up on stage and stuck his legs in. I could tell from the look on his face that he knew this was going to be painful. The person running the challenge walked the audience through the process as he himself had to do this for wrestling years ago. As the time dragged on, the guy in the ice buckets was struggling, but refused to tap out. Finally the time was up and a roar came from the crowd. His buddies came up on stage to help him out as his legs were like jello. He had succeeded and won the Xbox for his group.
The other event was during New Year's Eve, my first away from home. As midnight approached, everyone was given a wax candle. We all went outside and formed a large circle. It was very large. Then one person came out with a lit candle. That person shared their flame with the person next to them. Then that person did the same for the person next to them. As each person passed the flame to the next, we sang Carry Your Candle. I was enthralled by the flames popping up in the dead of night. Finally, there was a ring of lit candles, each marking the person holding them. Hundreds of lights blazing in the night, all lit by one flame. A demonstration of how one person can truly make a difference in the world. With our flames blazing and our voices strong, we sang in 2005.
And with that, we close the book on 2004, which was a very good year to me. Up next, the rollercoaster that was 2005.