PERSONAL RIVALRIES? WE ALL HAVE THEM

Personal rivalries started early and close to home.

We had kids down the street who challenged us to rock fights, tree house building, and dogs.

And they won every time.

It set me up for a lifetime of personal rivalries.

Grade School Rivals

Bangor Grade School vs the world.

The world at the time was Hillcrest and Roosevelt. They were grade schools up on the hill; Bangor was sea level. More like bay level.

The schools met during sports seasons. I didn’t know anyone from either of the other two schools, so it was easy making them ‘the other.’

Also, Roosevelt looked like The White House.

They were the fancy kids living in houses on the fancy part of town while mine was situated on an unpaved dead-end street next to a sand dune and a forest.

We played the other schools in flag football and basketball, but not so much baseball.

The scrappy Bullpups put up a good fight against the fancy pantsers. Did we win? It’s a blur, so I don’t think so.

Besides, winners have a better memories. So do liars.

Junior High School Personal Rivalries

Lucky for the kids growing up where I did, we had the evil empire right next door.

Coos Bay was bigger, smarter, richer, and even the fancy kids knew it.

In junior high the town grade schools finally joined together. Wouldn’t the kids who won games against Bangor team up and win every game against the superior Coos Bay teams?

Call me disappointed.

We played junior high sports against teams from Reedsport to Myrtle Point, prepping for the time we’d join the high school teams and hop on the Bulldog Bus to Eugene.

In those days the high schools in both North Bend and Coos Bay only played Eugene and Springfield schools, with a stop in Cottage Grove along the way.

High School Rivalries

As the only two schools on the Oregon coast designated 1-A, or A, while every other town carried a lesser rank, North Bend and Coos Bay played for Best in the West in every competition.

Of the three games of varsity football during my high school years, Coos Bay won three times.

The only comfort was most every other team that played the Bulldogs also won.

But, losing to Coos Bay was harder. We were all the same, growing up in the same place, but how were they better all of the time?

This is the stuff that makes personal rivalries take flight.

Kids on losing teams feel the burden. They either get used to it, find a way to win, or quit trying.

Or, for the daring, find a new sport.

Future Rivalries Fueled Early

When you get your hate on for personal rivalries, dial it down for other aspects of normal life.

If you don’t, you might have a problem.

Do you get slobberknocker drunk at tailgate pre-functions to be a better sports fan?

You’re not.

Do you shout degrading religious epithets during games against BYU or SMU or TCU?

Stop.

Personal rivalries take a sharp turn when they leave their source of origin.

Sports rivalries don’t equal racist rants or religious screeds.

The biggest opponent you will ever face, the one no one wants to tell you about, is the rivalry between who you are now and who you used to be.

Aging, and maturing with age, separates normal from abnormal.

‘Normal’ puts things aside to help their fellow man; abnormal revels in the pain and loss suffered by others. One shares feelings and chips in; the other says, “fuck your feelings” and walks away.

Personal rivalries are a spark of light to remind us where we come from and where we are.

Rivalries directed by some A-hole to an intellectually vulnerable audience is a problem that leads to dark places.

Be better than that. You’re got enough to be angry about without some dandy-man loading more fuel onto your fire.

If the people headed to prison for Jan. 6 had focused on personal rivalries instead of following ‘Direct Orders’ from an embittered loser, they’d be sleeping in their own bedroom tonight instead of sharing a cell with The Hammer who never sleeps.

Sweet dreams. Leave a comment.