My Brother Jon
Years ago, when I was writing the acknowledgments for my MSc thesis, I wrote this about my brother Jon:
Today we played at TFC's "The One Before Whistler" tournament, playing in the Reverse M2 format. We had high hopes for the tournament, having played the reverse mixed format for the most of the summer and having signed in at the B pool level; however, these hopes were quickly dashed when we showed up: I quickly recognised many teams who were clearly at least A if not AA level. To make matters worse, we were seeded in the A pool as "A1". This made us something of a target.
In the morning round robin, we went a solid 0-6. As far as disappointments go, this one really ranks up there. Some of the plays were so terrible, I couldn't believe I was playing with Jon. I was so disappointed with our play that I more or less conceded the tournament by driving us to McDonald's for lunch (instead of say Subway).
After the short lunch break, we stepped back onto the court to play in the tournament round, and it was like I was playing with a different player: Jon stepped up in a way I've never seen anyone in real life. He was making huge digs, making huge sets, and getting huge hits. Perhaps more importantly, he was doing it when the game was on the line: to stop the other team's comeback run, or when we made a mis-hit, and the stronger hitter was hitting, and when the game was tied at 24-24 with one point to go.
We wouldn't go on to win the tournament, we didn't even make it to the semi-final, but the way Jon played inspired ME to greatness -- not earth-shattering greatness, but personal greatness. When he played the way he did, running after loose balls, or making impossibly crazy digs, he dragged my play up with him. I made plays I'd never thought were possible: hitting winning husband-and-wife shots, or hitting two balls deep into corners for the points, or getting the short cuts... Playing with Jon today made me a better player.
Earlier today, when my mom asked us at lunch whether she should take photos, I told her, "Don't bother, this isn't something I want to remember."
Perhaps hearing that fired Jon up, because he turned it into a day that I'll always remember.
Lastly, to my brother Jonathan, you personify effort and passion. When I am down the most, I think of you, the first and the last player to dive for every ball on the volleyball court. It fills me with pride to be able to say that you are my brother—the best anyone could ask for.When I wrote this, I admit that it was something that I came up with off the top of my head... I could have probably done a better job if I'd sat down to think about it, but actually, when I look back, I'm quite happy with what I wrote: it really reflects what I think about my brother -- even if it doesn't really make sense (why would it be any good to be the last guy to dive for the ball on the court?). And while that was written a few years ago, Jon really blew me away today: he showed me how to make a play in a clutch situation -- to be a better player, to be a better person. In doing so, he inspired me to personal greatness.
Today we played at TFC's "The One Before Whistler" tournament, playing in the Reverse M2 format. We had high hopes for the tournament, having played the reverse mixed format for the most of the summer and having signed in at the B pool level; however, these hopes were quickly dashed when we showed up: I quickly recognised many teams who were clearly at least A if not AA level. To make matters worse, we were seeded in the A pool as "A1". This made us something of a target.
In the morning round robin, we went a solid 0-6. As far as disappointments go, this one really ranks up there. Some of the plays were so terrible, I couldn't believe I was playing with Jon. I was so disappointed with our play that I more or less conceded the tournament by driving us to McDonald's for lunch (instead of say Subway).
After the short lunch break, we stepped back onto the court to play in the tournament round, and it was like I was playing with a different player: Jon stepped up in a way I've never seen anyone in real life. He was making huge digs, making huge sets, and getting huge hits. Perhaps more importantly, he was doing it when the game was on the line: to stop the other team's comeback run, or when we made a mis-hit, and the stronger hitter was hitting, and when the game was tied at 24-24 with one point to go.
We wouldn't go on to win the tournament, we didn't even make it to the semi-final, but the way Jon played inspired ME to greatness -- not earth-shattering greatness, but personal greatness. When he played the way he did, running after loose balls, or making impossibly crazy digs, he dragged my play up with him. I made plays I'd never thought were possible: hitting winning husband-and-wife shots, or hitting two balls deep into corners for the points, or getting the short cuts... Playing with Jon today made me a better player.
Earlier today, when my mom asked us at lunch whether she should take photos, I told her, "Don't bother, this isn't something I want to remember."
Perhaps hearing that fired Jon up, because he turned it into a day that I'll always remember.
posted by tangaroo at 12:33 a.m.
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