I wonder if hockey players perform better when the stands are full. It is probably an adrenaline rush to hear the crowds cheering with every swoop of the stick. Maybe they are so intent on the puck they are oblivious to people watching. I have never been close enough to an NHL player to ask.
Eight years ago we had an in-house audience of six
college women living on our third floor. It was the same year the twins were born, so my memory is somewhat obscure. But having the young women around made me try harder to curb yelling and speak kindly. They may be surprised to know that, since I did still lose it on occasion when marathon nursing, pit stop sleeping, and a three kid diaper brigade wore me down.
I wonder if many people know they have a crowd cheering for their marriage. Fans
on earth and fans in heaven are whooping for every loving goal. They watch with rapt attention and can't help but leap from the bench as a wife folds her arms around her husband, when her first impulse was to complain. They heave a collective groan, when a husband makes a foul against his partner, smashing her feelings against the wall.
It is difficult to see the angels in the stands. Unfortunately they do not show up when I point the camera
lens, but if I listen intently I hear the clapping, disguised as leaves in the wind, when I smile at John. I catch the sighs of thousands, as I roll my eyes.
I guess it is time to advertise that empty room upstairs, in hopes of a new college girl or two to encourage me to play my best.
Or I could just blow up this photo and plaster it in the kitchen, which is where a lot of the
whacking and fouls happen anyway.
