Selah // Something Witty

...and in return you gave them hell.

Date: 03.04.17 -- Day 24 (Day 4 of 30-Day Blogging Challenge - March Edition)
Music: "Shout" / Tears for Fears

Tears for Fears has popped up again early in the challenge. I tried to think of a better song to encapsulate the prompt, but I simply couldn't do it. Tears for Fears is such an underappreciated band, and it colored so much of my childhood, so here it is once more. I might even get all of my favorite songs in before the challenge ends.

Prompt: Creation Saturday! - Who hears you when you scream?

I have to say that this is not a simple question or an easy question. There is something that sits on a tipping point inside me that wants me to answer this question, to dip into deep, dark waters that I do not touch. I've waited most of the day to find a way to tackle this in a way I feel comfortable with, but have found that these aren't words I feel I want to express here. So I'm going to softball this question a little; forgive me.

I scream a bit when the season is right - hockey in the winter, baseball in the summer. It's one of the few acceptable outlets I have to get out frustration. I'm a bottler, partially from cultural upbringing and partially from personality. These sports, however, have saved my life. Especially hockey. There's something about a full arena - the smell of the rink, the sound of the players' blades slicing through ice, the feel of hundreds of people ready for the puck to drop. Everyone has something to say, and usually, as long as you keep it clean, loudness is respected. When there are seconds on the clock, I'm up on my feet, shouting encouragement or chastising one of my teams players. Most people who know me find it funny if they're with me at a game. Shouting is not something they associate with my behavior. However, if I'm watching a game at home, I'm just as bad, only the protection of a mob is not with me. Since I share my living quarters, I have to yell in silence so as not to disturb others. It's kind of hilarious to watch. I'm usually waving my hands frantically in the air, soundlessly yelling at my computer screen. And given how my team is playing this year, it's been stressful and awkward.

Baseball has its moments, but one has to be on watch for the right time. Screaming is reserved for that one sweet hit to the outfield with a close score. Where hockey is swift, baseball is sedate. More than anything else, baseball taught me patience, both on the field and off. So when the shouting happens, it's with purpose. My favorite moment is when there's a crisp hit from the batter. There's this moment of awe, of waiting for the ball to land in your favor. You can hear the collective intake of breath from the crowd before fate sides with your team or destroys your hopes. And if it does, the screams of joy echo forever. All of that anticipation for one hit. Sometimes you're hugging the person in the seat next to you, screaming at the top of your lungs.

So, who hears me scream? Strangers. Strangers you can only love when you're in the midst of a game. Sometimes they're your enemy. Sometimes they're your best friend. And in the confines of that event, as you're screaming your lungs out, that's all that matters.