Life-A Box of Chocolates

…or a game of field hockey.

I’m not a field hockey expert by any stretch of the imagination. In fact I’ve only been privileged enough to watch three games. My niece is on her middle school team, and I have gone to watch her play.

Having only watched three games of field hockey, it’s been hard trying to figure out the calls. One I became quite familiar with, however, is the call when the ball hits someones foot.

There are eleven players per team on the field at any give minute of the game. That equals 22 pairs of feet; 44 feet when all is said and done. The players attached to these feet, are busily working to hit the ball, keeping it as close to the ground as possible (lest they get called for high-sticking or some other such offense).

It’s not rocket science to figure out that the chances of the ball hitting someone in the foot on a regular basis is pretty darn good. When that occurs, the opposing team (the team whose player didn’t get hit with the ball) gets the ball and play resumes.

Is that not like life itself, I ask you? There is a ball, in this game called life, rolling around, being batted from here to yon, and quite frankly, it’s going to hit a foot along the way…A LOT! And when that happens, you get to take the ball, regroup, and go at it all over again.

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