This weekend had some large ups and downs. It started off well Friday night, because I got to relax after a long workweek. It was finally nice to slow things down and not have to worry about homework or college apps for a short period of time. After going out to Tommy's Pizza, an awesome pizza place in 'NEPA'[Northeast Pennsylvania], I got a chance to buckle down, watch TV and get some sleep. I skipped out on going to the movies with a lot of my friends, but I was content with my decision. Before I went to bed, I realized that the choice I made sort of reflected a poem I read earlier in the week, Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken." The poem basically talks about a man who is stuck between two roads in life that diverged. Although my conflict was obviously not as vital as the conflict in this poem, I was happy to know I made the right choice to get some more rest, which "made all the difference."
After waking up feeling like a million dollars, my Saturday was bittersweet. We had our home game season opener for football, and we lost! My football team snapped our 10 game winning streak at home. What made me the most disappointed was midway through the game our teammates started arguing with eachother. Once again, during the game, I had a poetry flashback. The team arguing was similar to the Union States and Confederate States fighting in the 1860's in Walt Whitman's poem "America." Yeah, I understood that we were losing the game, but if there was a time to regroup and dig ourselves out of trouble, it was that moment. We rose to the occasion after halftime, but it was too late. Being optimistic though, I am fortunate that we lost now, rather than later in the season. Because of this loss, I am confident our team will become stronger, and if we stand united, we will not fall again. I could not think of a better piece of literature to describe that feeling than Whitman's poem.
After the game, our team was depressed, no question about it. However, we managed to regroup, and hung out in the dorms together. Even though a couple hours beforehand we were all muttering in disappointment, nobody pointed the finger at anyone after the game. We realized that no matter how good our best players were, we were only as good as our slowest man. Admittedly, there was much progress that had to be completed before we were content. As Robert Frost says in his poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, no matter how far and successful we were, there were “miles to go before [we could] sleep [and be content].”
My weekend was filled with so much poetry. Now I’m not saying that’s a bad thing at all (it’s actually a great thing), I just find it strange how the only class I use outside of school has been poetry. For whatever reason that is, I'm not sure, but I hope this continues for quite some time.
-Permitpat
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