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Elation

These days, my mindset defers to Joy, to accomplishment, to service, to impact, to my place on earth in this current realm. When I think of elation and my life experience, I simply cannot compare anything to the day I went to the White Light.

It is particularly provocative, spirit-driven, memorable, and connective. Draw your own conclusions, as I have had the privilege of enjoying many episodes of the beautiful game lately. In the current World Cup, I have seen most of the highlight packages and several full matches.

I am delighted to report that for this World Cup, I was able to calm down my Monkey Mind and the endless TO-DO lists reverberating in my very active brain. The purpose was to enjoy the moment, in order to carve out the time and watch these seminal moments reverberating around the World.

The Capo Verde goal tying the match for the second time was so memorable and spectacular that it still tears me up to watch it, and I have probably seen it ten times now.

What was so memorable to me was not just the play itself, but the fact that the player ran into the stands to be among his tiny group of fans from his tiny country and hug his woman. I will never forget that. What a statement to the World.

Definitely in the top five of the most memorable sporting moments I have experienced as a participant or an observer. So now let me segue to the most memorable moment as a participant in the beautiful game, the day I went to the White Light.

My teammates and I were playing in a tournament in Aspen. We were the only team that was not from the Mountains, derisively called “The Flatlanders” by catcalling fans. We were a very diverse assemblage of talent. The core players were German, Yugoslavian, Korean, Ethiopian, Malaysian, truly an international smorgasbord. The glue that brought this team together was an arrogant group of inner-city youngsters, and I do mean youngsters, with some still High School age, who brashly thought that they were ALL THAT, and more importantly, lived up to it.

This was the last year that the tournament was held in Aspen. It was a very small Park, literally wrapped around a Soccer pitch, with every square inch available to spectators taken up by screaming, virulent fanatics opposed to any success the intruding “Flatlanders” might enjoy. To be fair, we had earned some of this angry catcalling from the other teams and their entourages. We not only kicked everyone’s asses in those days, but we were also loud about it, both before and after the games.

That is kind of how brash young Alpha Male athletes behave, which is what you are if you are even on the pitch as a Player at that level of “the beautiful game”. No one has ever considered the term “Emotional Safety” here, not at that age or in that environment. Trust me.

The Championship Match was very tight. We were playing the only team from the Mountains who, like us, had handily defeated their previous three opponents leading up to the Final. It was a very hard-fought battle heading towards extra time, tied 1-1. It looked like we were headed for overtime, and perhaps the dreaded penalty kicks. Although we fancied both of our brash young Goalkeepers, and loved our chances.

I played a quick little give-and-go, which in those very tight quarters is very difficult to execute; such is the quality of the defenses in high-level soccer. My midfielder teammate Terry flicked the ball up in the air, and I hit it first time with a perfect half-volley with my right foot. This sent the ball like a gravity-forced, heat-seeking missile streaking about a foot and a half above ground just inside the right post for the Winning Goal. 

What followed can only be described as unfiltered euphoric elation. I literally went to the White Light. I can remember right where most of the key players were on the field when I scored. I can remember details right down to specks of mud on people’s socks. The level of detail is simply unfathomable, an unexplained phenomenon. But you and I both know what happened, the unexplainable is Spirit. Spirit is always present. This I know, ELATEDLY.

-John Olander