A great and wise man once said: “Game over, man. Game over.”
The source and context matters not, as it rarely does. What matters is that it was said, presumably at a time when the game was over. And when the game is over, many things can potentially happen. The opponents could shake hands and part as friends, once glowing with victory and the other glowing with the knowledge that the loss has made them stronger. Alternatively, one could be gloating while the other fumes with the rage of defeat.
Sporting endeavours teach us much about life, as one person or team pits themselves against stiff opposition in a test of skill and might. Truly they are the most candid moments of human civilisation! I had a message from a fan this week who worried that their contributions to life had been minimal at best, as their profession was looking after tennis equipment at their local club. Setting up the tennis netting, buying new balls when the old ones became worn and restringing rackets; the basic caretaker jobs. They had no skill at tennis themselves, but wanted to be involved in the process. Still, they felt useless, shunned and underappreciated.
My friends, this world stops turning without its auxiliary members. Take it from me, since I have visited every inch of the faerie realm in my waking meditation dreams, and have seen its functions. Surely, the faerie kings and queens are celebrated. Even more surely are the unseen members of society celebrated; the ones that maintain the magical barriers, the ones who grow magic fruit trees, the ones who magically transport waste from their realm into the realm of humans.
You say your only role is to maintain tennis and indoor cricket nets? Take pride, since without you, the game does not continue! Pay no heed to the fools who say otherwise. Surely, your role is a blessed one, and this message goes out to all who doubt their role in life.
Pick up my latest instructive novella in the gift shop today: The Blessed Role in a World of Fools. Half off with any plushie purchase!