“Have you ever been to Roller Derby?” asked Andy, a former missionary doctor in the Sunday School class I led. I have received many questions after teaching classes, but this one was new. Who could say “no” to watching women’s roller derby with a former missionary? His wife, apparently, would never be seen at such a silly spectacle (all I knew about Roller Derby was from an episode of the TV show Psych). Without hesitation, I said “Yes.” Andy and I shared a great conversation about his mission work, amid laughter at flying elbows and the athletes’ silly nicknames. Admittedly, I went to the event more to get to know Andy than anything else.
We need that same attitude toward friendship; we need resolute men who form friendships in an isolating culture.
My friend and I didn’t fit into the typical roller derby crowd, especially Andy, who wore a sweater over a pressed shirt emblazoned with the classic Masters logo. The Masters had sent me years’ worth of emails rejecting my ticket requests. I asked him when he went to the Masters, and he said, “Every year.” Andy had become a patron (annual ticket holder) while in Medical School in Augusta, but only attended the four-day tournament Friday and Saturday at this point. The next Sunday, Andy came up to me after Sunday School and asked, “Thursday or Sunday?” Frantically, I tried to catch my breath and squeak out, “Sunday, but I can make Thursday work too.” I was headed to Augusta for the Masters with an extra ticket for a friend.
Deepening Friendship
When I returned home from church that day, I found my roommate and best friend, Eric, and asked him what he was doing on April 14th. Eric and I bonded over the past few years through our mutual love for University of Tennessee athletics and our service in the local church. The year prior, he’d Skype me from his mission field in Guatemala and we’d watch games together, my computer camera aimed at the television. The best things of life are shared with the best people in your life, convenient or not. So, in April, we began our pilgrimage to Augusta National.
The Masters environment cultivates friendship. Unlike every other part of our lives today, you cannot take phones or screens onto the property. Instead, patrons clad in green sit and talk while eating pimento cheese sandwiches and watching the greatest golf tournament ever created.
Eric and I walked the course and then found a spot next to the 15th green. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, we talked about life, God, and golf. That’s how sports provide avenues for friendships, building bonds different from work, family, or romance. Sports have always been a place where men build friendships. And golf, especially, which is slow and long, creates a space for all manner of discussion. No matter what sport you prefer, the life of a fan can forge friendships by sitting together and strategizing how you would coach, criticizing the seeming blindness of a referee, and celebrating an unlikely victory.
In both of these friendships, sports provided the atmosphere in which male friendships grew through shared interests, unhurried time, and the posture of sitting shoulder to shoulder in conversation and enjoyment. These friendships grow through shared joys and sorrows in the game and in life.
A Tradition Unlike Any Other
Every spring, the announcer for the Masters, Jim Nantz, calls this competition “A Tradition Unlike Any Other.” For me, sports friendships are the true and better tradition. Sports have all sorts of vices and ills that come with them. And we can debate whether the money flowing into athletics ruins the game. Augusta (the golf club) does not let money ruin its culture. The tickets stay at the same price, the egg salad sandwich remains at $1.50, and corporate logos are nowhere to be found. The club wants to preserve what makes the Masters one of the greatest events in human history.
We need that same attitude toward friendship; we need resolute men who form friendships in an isolating culture. Danger lurks all around us, threatening the environment that cultivates true friendship. First, your social media community of fans rallying against the coach who is ruining the team or the ref who missed the critical call is not the same as being shoulder to shoulder on the couch or in the stands. You may share anger, but not a relationship. Second, sports gambling on your phone trades victory on the field for the lesser victories of point spreads and over-under. Our phones with social media and gambling apps distract us from friendship. I am not saying you need to go back to a flip phone; instead, go forward with an aim for intentional friendship that will be life-giving for years ahead.
Eric and I have no pictures together at Augusta because they do not allow phones, but the memories come back every year. Friendship is a better prize than winning a parlay, and memories of a great game are greater than engagement on social media. As the Masters comes around again this year, let’s devote our time in sports to building friendships.
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