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To be a fan is a curious thing. It means willingly signing up for emotional instability tied to outcomes we can’t control. It’s a peculiar blend of loyalty and irrational hope—where our identity quietly intertwines with a school, a roster, maybe a story bigger than us. A true fan doesn’t just celebrate wins; we invest in them, savoring victory like it was personally earned. And yet, the real test of fandom isn’t how loudly we cheer in success, but how stubbornly we stay when the losses loom large.

That feels especially true during March Madness, when sixty-eight of college basketball’s finest chase the same goal: to be the lone team that wins its final game. Millions of us tune in, paying special attention to our alma maters, the underdogs, and the teams we’ve long called our own.

It’s no secret the Intramuralist is a Purdue fan. While earning a pair of degrees, it became a place where I grew up, built lifelong friendships, and learned valuable lessons in life, leadership, and relationships.

Purdue’s entry into the 2026 tournament has offered its own set of lessons. A little context…

College sports feel shaky right now. As Outkick’s Trey Wallace recently wrote, they sit “in an era defined by NIL money and transfer portal chaos.”

NIL (Name, Image, and Likeness) has opened the door for athletes to earn real money—through sponsorships, endorsements, and, increasingly, pay-for-play dynamics. Pair that with the transfer portal, and you get a kind of free-market system: constant movement, fierce competition, and very little long-term continuity. The traditional idea of staying, building, and developing? It’s fading fast.

Michigan State Hall of Fame coach Tom Izzo put it bluntly: “I keep coming back because I’m stubborn and dumb… I’m not ready to give into the system, even though I think the system is completely broken.”

How broken? In the last six seasons, more than 4,300 men’s basketball players have transferred. Four-year players at one school are now the exception, not the rule.

As of this month, only 22 scholarship players in high-major conferences have stayed all four years at their original school. Only 22. Three of them are at Purdue.

Two—Braden Smith and Fletcher Loyer—have started together in the backcourt for four straight seasons.

The third, Trey Kaufman-Renn, arrived as a highly ranked recruit and agreed to redshirt his first year, trusting the process—believing it would be good for both the team and for him.

There’s just something about Purdue. These young men commit. They grow together. They learn lessons that stretch well beyond the court. As Kaufman-Renn said recently, “You may get more money elsewhere—but what’s the dollar amount on the relationships I’ve built? On the values I’ve learned?” That sentiment is echoed across the board. These young men are learning so much more than basketball.

They learn that when they come to play for Coach Matt Painter—a former Boilermaker himself—who has built a culture centered on chemistry, accountability, and character; the idea of “one-and-done” is not his forte, tempting as the perceived fleeting success may be. Painter is known for humility, honesty and integrity—traits that have led Izzo to call Painter the best coach in the Big Ten, adding, “There’s never been a time where Matt Painter doesn’t do what’s best for his kids over himself.”

The players must believe that. Because they come. And they stay. They get their education. And they walk away with more lessons in life than the hardwood.

It’s not that Purdue has been the best story of this year’s tournament. There have been plenty of Cinderella runs and headline-makers alike… Iowa and Miami of Ohio immediately come to mind. But as Purdue closes out its 2025–26 season—falling just short of the Final Four—one thing is certain…

Their fan base isn’t going anywhere. Because it’s not just about wins. It’s about who they are. That’s why we love them so.

Respectfully,
AR

In a world where politics too often trumps relationships, sincere stories stand out. Note last week’s Senate hearing of then Department of Homeland Security candidate, Republican Sen. Markwayne Mullin, and his public references to Democratic Rep. Josh Gottheimer.

With Gottheimer sitting behind him in the hearing, Mullen said this about his colleague:

“You know, Josh and I, we may not always agree on every issue, but he’s a friend.

And our relationship started back in 2017 when he thought I was a staff member running a workout group because I’ve been running a bipartisan workout group that started actually with the Speaker Kevin McCarthy and Jason Smith 13 years ago, and I still do that to this day. When he came in in ’17 — Joe Kennedy was also a friend of mine — he approached him when I was on the House floor and asked him ‘Why is a trainer in the gym on the House voting?’ And Joe Kennedy laughed and said, ‘He’s a member from Oklahoma.’ After that, we became friends.

In fact, our daughters are writing a book together about bipartisanship. But when Josh asked me to join a bipartisan group called ‘No Labels,’ that’s when we really started seeing that there’s a lot of common ground that we can work together.

Yeah, as I said in my opening statement, we all make decisions based on how we were raised and our life experiences, and Josh and I were raised different, just like everybody on this dais is raised different than me and we’ve had different life experiences. But we all believe in that flag right there behind you. And what I say is, as long as you love that flag as much as I do and you’re willing to die for that flag like I am, we can work together. We can set the differences aside, and we can work together. And Josh represents that, too.”

How honorable. Let me be clear: with a government in which so many on all sides question the honor and integrity of so many, we need more public servants like Markwayne Mullen and Josh Gottheimer.

Look at how they’re teaching the next generation; their daughter’s are collaborating on a book together.

Note more insight from Mullin, as he continued in his hearing…

“Just for him [Josh] being here, you guys know, he’s got a primary. In New Jersey. He’s not a senator who has 6 years; he’s up every 2 years, and he’s here. That’s a friend. That says ‘hey, my political differences are beside — I still like you. I cannot tell you how many members on the Democratic party which I love and respect — and I understand the politics — who’ve came up to me since this nomination and said, ‘Hey, I love you, but. But I’m running for this office, but I’m running for this office, but I’m up for reelection. I’d get killed in my state. In most cases I would support you, but. But. I can’t. And it drives me crazy, but when you see a real friend like that, I’d run through fire for the guy.”

And therein lies the integrity problem in our government today.

Politics have been prioritized over relationship. And when relationships are sacrificed, so too is the trust required to govern well.

What makes the example of Markwayne Mullin and Josh Gottheimer so compelling is not that they agree—it’s that they don’t. Yet they refuse to reduce one another to caricatures or political liabilities. Contrast that with the broader culture in Washington, where too many elected officials—Democrats and Republicans alike—treat the “other side” not as colleagues with differing perspectives, but as obstacles to be discredited. The result is a system where cooperation is seen as weakness, and integrity is traded for electability. By dismissing and distancing themselves from those across the aisle, leaders may strengthen their chances in the next election, but they weaken the very institution they were elected to serve. Until both parties are willing to reject this all-or-nothing mindset—where one side is entirely right and the other entirely wrong—we will continue to see division win out over progress. And that is a cost the American people can no longer afford.

Respectfully…

AR

As shared by People Magazine…

The Georgia teens who drove to teacher Jason Hughes’ home on the night of March 6 were as excited as he was when they toilet papered his house as part of a long-running tradition at their high school.

No one had any idea the night would end in tragedy.

Hughes, 40, a beloved math teacher and golf coach at North Hall High School in Gainesville, was delighted that the students had picked his house to prank, his wife, Laura Hughes, also a math teacher at the school, said.

Hughes was heading down to where the students were because he “was excited and waiting to catch them in the act,” Laura Hughes said in a statement, The New York Times reports.

After tossing toilet paper into the trees in the Hughes’ yard, Jayden Wallace, 18, got into his pickup truck with some of the other teens inside.

“As he was leaving the home, Jayden never saw Mr. Hughes,” the teen’s attorney, Graham McKinnon, said in a statement sent to PEOPLE. “Jayden’s vehicle had only traveled a few feet when the accident occurred.”

Hughes slipped on wet pavement and was struck by the truck, the Hall County Sheriff’s Office said.

As Hughes lay in the street, Wallace and the other teens raced to his side to administer aid until EMTs arrived, according to the sheriff’s office.

Hughes was rushed to a local hospital, where he later died.

In the aftermath of the accident, Wallace was charged with first-degree vehicular homicide, a felony, reckless driving and a misdemeanor. The four other teens — Elijah Owens, Aiden Hucks, Ana Luque and Ariana Cruz, all 18 — were charged with misdemeanor counts of criminal trespassing and littering.

And here’s why this story is not worth missing…

Calling the incident a “terrible tragedy,” Laura Hughes spoke out, saying in a statement that she did not think the teens should be charged, The New York Times reports.

“Our family is determined to prevent a separate tragedy from occurring, ruining the lives of these students,” she said. “This would be counter to Jason’s lifelong dedication of investing in the lives of these children.”

On Friday, District Attorney Lee Darragh announced that he was dropping all charges.

Without a doubt, the grieving widow could make someone pay. And not just pay for something random, but pay for a tragedy for which the other was actually responsible.

But instead of choosing what most would deem as appropriate justice, Laura Hughes chose mercy. She had the power to punish but chose compassion and forgiveness instead.

There may be no more attractive, powerful thing.

Mercy refuses to let pain have the last word. It breaks the cycle that insists every wrong must be answered with equal force. It reminds us that while justice settles accounts, mercy restores people. And in a world that too often keeps score, mercy tells a better story—one where grace, not retribution, gets the final word.

Respectfully…

AR

Every March, something magical happens in American sports. The country briefly turns into a traveling zoo, a medieval battlefield, a weather channel, and a folklore festival—all at once. That’s because the NCAA Division I Men’s Basketball Tournament gathers one of the most delightfully varied collections of identities. And honestly, it might be the most cheerful, noncontroversial form of diversity we have.

No committees. No panels. No debates. Just a wildly eclectic cast of mascots where a Devil can square off against a Saint, a Cyclone can collide with a Bruin, and somewhere in the bracket a Billiken quietly appears with everyone nodding along like they totally know what that is.

It’s a gathering that makes no sense… and yet somehow works perfectly.

You see the range right away as the Duke Blue Devils face the Siena Saints—less like basketball, more like a philosophical debate with referees.

Then there are the forces of nature. The Crimson Tide rolls through like a basketball tsunami, while the Iowa State Cyclones spin in with equal (albeit midwestern) energy. When the weather shows up, you know it’s March.

Animals, of course, are everywhere. The UCLA Bruins, North Dakota State Bison, and LIU Sharks cover land and sea, while Wildcats and Razorbacks bring maybe even more of an edge. Gonzaga’s and Georgia’s Bulldogs would seem, too, to have their own mascot advantage.

Birdwatchers get their moment, as well. The Louisville Cardinals, Kennesaw State Owls, and Kansas Jayhawks add speed, wisdom, and a bit of history to the mix.

Speaking of history, the Michigan State Spartans, Virginia Cavaliers, and Texas Tech Red Raiders arrive ready for battle, while the UConn Huskies represent northern grit and endurance (and a few likely technical fouls from their head coach).

And then come the wonderfully odd ones. The Akron Zips (thanks to a kangaroo named Zippy), the Saint Louis Billikens (a quirky good-luck figure), and the Hofstra Pride—which might be the most intimidating concept of all.

And then there’s one Intramuralist favorite that deserves a special salute…

Among mythological beings, wildlife, storms, and warriors, the Purdue Boilermakers stand for something refreshingly real: skilled labor, seniors who’ve stayed. No claws. No wings. No magic. Just hardworking builders who helped power the American heartland. In a bracket full of legends, they’re the ones who could probably fix the scoreboard at halftime.

That’s the beauty of March Madness.

Where else could a Spartan face a Blue Devil, a Bruin meet a Wildcat, and a Shark try to upset a Saint?

It’s chaotic. It’s colorful. It’s occasionally ridiculous.

But it’s also kind of perfect.

None of these nicknames compete for space. The Bison, Owls, Cyclones, Bulldogs, Cardinals, Jayhawks, Razorbacks, Huskies, Red Raiders, Zips, Billikens, Boilermakers, Crimson Tide, and Pride all show up together and let basketball decide things.

It’s a patchwork that somehow fits.

The Saints stay saints. The Devils stay devils. The Wildcats keep prowling. And the Boilermakers keep building.

For a few weeks every spring, the country gathers to watch the greatest mascot mash-up in sports—and in the end, it feels like the simplest idea in the world:

Everyone’s invited. Time to tip off.

Respectfully…

AR

Sometimes it seems like religion gets a really bad rap. Whether it’s the intensifying persecution Christians face in places like North Korea, Somalia, Eritrea, and Nigeria, the spike in antisemitic incidents around the world, or even the rising hostility toward the American church.

But maybe the real issue isn’t religion itself. Maybe the problem is that many of us have forgotten what religion actually is—and how different it is from faith.

My sense is that we tend to take the word religion and define it only by its most common meaning…

religion | rəˈlij(ə)n | n. – the belief in and worship of a superhuman power or powers, especially a God or gods.

But embedded in almost every definition of the word is another meaning — and arguably one that is just as accurate, if not more relevant…

religion | rəˈlij(ə)n | n. – a pursuit or interest to which someone ascribes supreme importance.

In other words, to be religious about something is to treat it as ultimate — to give it our attention, our loyalty, our energy. It’s something we return to again and again. Something that organizes our lives. I can be religious about my exercise routine or about eating my vegetables.

So the real question becomes: what are the things to which we ascribe supreme importance. For example (and certainly not an exhaustive list)…

Our politics…
For some, political ideology or national identity becomes the highest good—something worth defending at all costs. Loyalty to ideas like Liberalism, Nationalism, or Socialism can shape a person’s entire worldview and sense of purpose.

Our wealth, status, or economic success…
Money, career advancement, or financial security can easily become the central pursuit that structures someone’s life. Success and accumulation become the measures by which everything else is judged. I mean zero judgment here—I simply wonder what the relationships are like for someone whose religion is economic status.

Social causes…
People often devote enormous emotional energy and moral conviction to movements, organizations, or causes they see as ultimate priorities. That can be admirable. The challenge comes when the pursuit becomes so religious—so narrow—that it becomes impossible to see any good in another perspective.

Knowledge or intellectual authority…
For some, the pursuit of knowledge or the authority of expert consensus becomes the highest guiding principle—something trusted to explain reality and determine what is true. I understand the impulse; a zealous pursuit of knowledge can have great benefits. But it’s also clear there are some things we simply cannot know without divine revelation.

Pleasure…
Modern culture often elevates personal happiness or self-expression as the ultimate goal of life. What makes us happy? Just because something makes us happy doesn’t necessarily make us good. Sometimes religion can actually get in the way.

And lastly, for this non-exhaustive list…

Community and belonging…
In some cases, loyalty to a group—whether cultural, national, or even recreational—can become the central organizing commitment in a person’s life. It can at times cause us to lose sight of other things that are equally worthy.

Most of us organize our lives around something we consider ultimate. So the real question isn’t whether we’re religious. The real question is what our religion actually is.

Religion and faith simply aren’t the same thing.

Respectfully…
AR

As is no secret, the Intramuralist is a big fan of questions. Long time readers will know we favor it because it’s the only punctuation piece that begs a response; we value respectful dialogue. True, too, is that the tool doesn’t demand that another thinks like us; it’s more a “let’s figure this out together.”

Hence, with the current intensity of the conflict in Iran, there are lots of questions. Here are the recent headlines that have made bias secondary to knowing what’s actually true:

1. Can Aid Groups Reach Civilians in War-Torn Iranian Cities? (Reuters)
2. Can Diplomacy Still Stop the Iran War? (Reuters)
3. Could China Step In to Support Iran Diplomatically? (Reuters)
4. Could Internal Protests Destabilize Iran During the War? (Reuters)
5. Could Iran Close the Strait of Hormuz? (Bloomberg)
6. Could Iran Launch Cyberattacks Against the United States? (Reuters)
7. Could Iranian Drone Attacks Escalate Further? (Fox News)
8. Could Iranian Proxies Target American Troops in the Region? (CNN)
9. Could NATO Be Dragged Into the Iran War? (Reuters)
10. Could Negotiations Restart During the War? (The Guardian)
11. Could Russia Help Iran Militarily? (Reuters)
12. Could the Conflict Push Oil Prices Above $100 a Barrel? (Bloomberg)
13. Could the Conflict Trigger a Global Recession? (CNBC)
14. Could the Iran Conflict Spread to Lebanon and Iraq? (BBC)
15. Could the Iran War Become America’s Next Long Conflict? (The Hill)
16. Could the Iran War Expand Into a Regional Conflict? (Associated Press)
17. Could the Strait of Hormuz Crisis Disrupt Global Trade? (CNBC)
18. Could the War Bring Down Iran’s Government? (Washington Post)
19. Could the War Trigger a New Refugee Crisis? (BBC)
20. Could the War With Iran Shift U.S. Military Focus From China? (Foreign Policy)
21. Did the President Need Congressional Approval for Strikes on Iran? (Washington Post)
22. Did the U.S. Miscalculate Iran’s Response? (NBC News)
23. How Many Civilians Have Been Killed in the Iran War? (The Guardian)
24. How Will the Iran War Affect U.S. Gas Prices? (USA Today)
25. Is Israel Preparing for a Longer War With Iran? (Al Jazeera)
26. Is Iran Facing a Succession Crisis After Its Leadership Losses? (Financial Times)
27. Is Regime Change in Iran a Realistic Outcome? (The Atlantic)
28. Is the FBI Preparing for Iran-Linked Attacks Inside the U.S.? (Fox News)
29. Is the Iran Conflict Creating a Humanitarian Disaster? (Al Jazeera)
30. Is the Middle East on the Brink of a Regional War? (BBC)
31. Is the U.S. Heading Toward a Wider War With Iran? (CNN)
32. Is the U.S. Preparing to Send Ground Troops to Iran? (New York Post)
33. Is the U.S. Strategy in Iran Working? (Politico)
34. Is Washington Ready for Iranian Retaliation? (CNN)
35. What Does the War in Iran Mean for Global Oil Prices? (Reuters)
36. What Happens If the Strait of Hormuz Closes? (Bloomberg)
37. What Would a Ceasefire Between Iran and the U.S. Look Like? (Politico)
38. What Would Victory in the Iran War Look Like? (Reuters)
39. Who Would Lead Iran If the Current Regime Falls? (BBC)
40. Will Hezbollah Join the War Against Israel? (BBC)
41. Will Iran Escalate Attacks on U.S. Bases? (Newsweek)
42. Will Iran Target Gulf States Next? (CNBC)
43. Will Iran’s Allies Rally to Defend the Regime? (CNN)
44. Will Iran’s Military Leadership Fracture Under Pressure? (Al Jazeera)
45. Will Markets Panic Over the Iran Conflict? (Reuters)
46. Will Russia or China Broker Peace in the Conflict? (BBC)
47. Will Sanctions and War Collapse Iran’s Economy? (Financial Times)
48. Will Shipping Through the Gulf Be Disrupted? (Financial Times)
49. Will the Iran War End Quickly or Drag On? (Newsweek)
50. Will the Pentagon Expand the Air Campaign in Iran? (Defense News)

Praying for this to end soon and for wisdom to prevail. There are indeed lots of questions.

Respectfully…

AR

“I, (name), do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. (So help me God).”

Upon enlisting in the U.S. Armed Forces, each person takes the above oath of enlistment.

It is a solemn, binding promise that includes the following:

• A promise to protect American values, rights, and the rule of law, not a person.
• Obedience to the President and officers appointed over them.
• A voluntary promise to put the nation and its people first.
• An understanding they may be required to make the ultimate sacrifice for their country.

Six who once bravely and boldly took that oath were:

Nicole Amor
Declan Coady
Cody Khork
Jeffrey O’Brien
Robert Marzan
Noah Tietjens

These captains, sergeants, majors and more — ages 20 to 54 — from California to Iowa, Florida and elsewhere — were killed at the onset of Operation Epic Fury.

While these deaths occurred in Kuwait, the soldiers were attacked by Iranian drones as part of a wide-scale retaliatory campaign. For the first time in history, Tehran targeted all six members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), a political and economic union of six Arab states bordering the Persian Gulf which aims to foster economic, security, and cultural cooperation among its monarchies. Iran targeted them in addition to several other U.S. regional partners.

Just because their deaths happened thousands of miles away from most of us, I don’t want there to be any out-of-sight-out-of-mind mentality. Those persons’ innocent lives were lost. Every life has a name. Every name has a story. And every story matters to God.

Behind each of those names are families who love them deeply. There are parents who raised them, friends who laughed with them, coworkers who trusted them, and communities who will forever feel their absence. Their lives were full of moments that mattered long before this moment ever arrived.

When someone raises their right hand and takes that oath, they know there are risks. They understand that service can ask a great deal of them. Yet they step forward anyway — not because it’s easy, but because they believe in serving something bigger than themselves. That kind of selflessness deserves our gratitude and remembrance.

When I think about the men and women who admirably serve this country, I’m reminded that they come from every background and every viewpoint imaginable. They don’t all vote the same way. They don’t all think the same way. But they still stand shoulder to shoulder in service. Maybe there’s something we can learn from that.

Maybe the best way we can honor those who serve — and those we have lost — is by remembering that we’re all in this together. By speaking a little more kindly. By listening a little more patiently. By refusing to let politics turn neighbors into enemies. We can’t control the conflicts that occur in distant places, but we can control the spirit we bring to our own communities.

Nicole. Declan. Cody. Jeffrey. Robert. And Noah.

May their service never be forgotten. May their families be surrounded by love and support. And may their memory remind us to value one another a little more.

Respectfully…

AR

Wow… this may be the best thing I’ve heard in a while. Not just the best, but maybe one of the most widely relevant for us all.

But first, allow us three brief but necessary definitions. Let’s define curious, condemning, and to condemn.

And also…

One of the blessings of this age and stage of life is that I have multiple wise and wonderful friends who are established, mental health professionals. Among them are psychiatrists, psychologists, social workers and counselors who have years of seasoned experience and insight. They have some excellent things to say.

This week in one of my interactions, one shared one of those nuggets of truth that I knew I needed to hold onto. It was simple, but so poignant. So true. And so wanting for all to know.

She said it’s impossible to be curious and condemning at the same time.

Let me say that again…

It’s impossible to be curious and condemning at the same time.

Without a doubt, in this heightened, polarizing culture we live in, there is a ton of condemnation… a plethora of expressing unfavorable or adverse judgment of another… not just for what people do, but sadly, for who they are.

It makes me think…

We have lost our pursuit of curiosity. We have dismissed its value, its beauty and its need. When we are curious of another, we seek to understand, to learn and to know. We recognize there is always more we need to know. What a gift curiosity proves to be.

There is wisdom, therefore, in being a curious people. 

Sounds like something essential to work on.

Respectfully…

AR

Saturday was a sobering day. Many of us woke up to the news that the U.S. and Israel had launched coordinated strikes across Iran in “Operation Epic Fury,” targeting ballistic missile and nuclear infrastructure. The stated goal: eliminate future Iranian threats and stop any pursuit of nuclear weapons. Pres. Trump also defined success as something more sweeping — the Iranian people rising up and ending the current regime.

Before we rush to our corners, it’s worth stating two things plainly.

First: the Iranian regime is oppressive. That’s not partisan rhetoric; that’s well-documented reality.

For years, organizations like Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and the United Nations have detailed what life under the Islamic Republic often entails:

• Frequent use of the death penalty, including for non-violent crimes.
• Security forces using deadly force against protestors.
• Reports of torture and psychological abuse in detention.
• Punishments such as flogging and amputation permitted under law.
• Arbitrary arrests without clear charges or due process.
• Courts lacking independence and full transparency.
• Restricted access to independent legal counsel in political cases.
• Criminalization of speech critical of authorities.
• Journalists harassed, detained, or imprisoned.
• Peaceful protests forcibly broken up.
• Severe limits on civic groups, unions, and activists.
• Discrimination against religious minorities.
• State monitoring of online activity and personal communications.
• Legal inequalities affecting certain groups disproportionately.
• Women facing legal inequities in family law, inheritance, travel, and mandatory dress requirements.

When protests intensified last December, the regime reportedly responded with escalated force and even cut off internet access. Whatever one thinks about foreign policy, it’s hard to argue that this is a system characterized by broad civil liberty.

Second: most of us have an extremely limited perspective on what just happened. We scroll headlines. We react. We debate. But we are not in intelligence briefings. We do not see classified assessments. We do not sit with military planners weighing options that likely all carry serious risk. That doesn’t mean citizens shouldn’t have opinions. It does mean we should hold them with humility.

It’s also worth remembering that what Pres. Trump did is not historically unique. Military action without formal congressional approval has precedent across administrations, such as:

• George H. W. Bush in Panama (1989)
• Bill Clinton in Kosovo (1999)
• Barack Obama in Libya (2011)
• Joe Biden in Syria and Iraq (2021–2024)

One can argue about constitutionality. One can debate prudence. But this pattern did not begin on Saturday.

That’s why the day feels sad and sobering to me.

Not because I have fully resolved whether the strikes were right or wrong. Not because I align neatly with one political tribe or the other. But because at some point, people who know far more than I do concluded that military force was the least bad option available. And that is always sobering.

War means risk. It means unintended consequences. It means innocent lives in danger. Even when confronting a repressive regime, the human cost is real.

So yes — Iran’s government is oppressive. Yes — the suffering of its people is documented and ongoing. And yes — American presidents of both parties have used military force without Congress formally declaring war. We can acknowledge all of that at once.

God be with us. May casualties and innocent life on all sides be minimized. And may truth always prevail.

Soberly…
AR

I have one more thought about the Olympics that just wrapped up. Typically, of course, I have many thoughts. But as I watched the final scheduled event of the XXV Olympic Winter Games, I found myself captivated by more than just the competition.

It was men’s ice hockey. USA vs. Canada, with Canada entering as the slight but solid favorite. In a thrilling finish for Americans (especially those watching early on a Sunday morning), the USA defeated their North American rivals with a winning goal less than two minutes into overtime.

The joy was immediate and unmistakable. Gloves and sticks flew into the air. Teammates raced across the ice toward one another, elated at what they had just accomplished. American gold in this event hadn’t been achieved since the infamous “Miracle on Ice” 46 years, to-the-day earlier. The thrill of victory was obvious, loud, and contagious.

With cheers echoing through the arena — high fives, hugs, hugely wide smiles — officials prepared for the medal ceremony. The joy seemed only to swell as the crowd awaited what would come next.

And that’s where I noticed something that transcended sports.

Three teams were honored. Finland stepped up first, calmly and happily receiving their well-earned bronze after securing it the day before. The Finns’ pride was notable — steady and deserved.

The United States went last. They were gleeful — smiling, laughing, playfully interacting. Special recognition was given to goaltender Connor Hellebuyck for his remarkable saves and to slightly toothless Jack Hughes, the player who scored the iconic overtime goal. As they received their medals, many glanced down at the gold resting on their chests, perhaps in awe. It was a moment of “wow — look what we’ve done!”

But before the Americans were honored, the Canadian team lined up to receive their silver medals. And that’s what struck me most.

Silver signifies second in the world. It represents extraordinary achievement and elite athletic excellence. And yet, in that immediate moment, the Canadians looked anything but honored.

There were no smiles. No playful exchanges. No admiring glance at the medal newly placed around their necks. The collective mood felt far more somber than celebratory, as it was more a  moment of “wow — I can’t believe what we could not do.”

Let me be clear: there is no judgment. It’s simply an observation. In that tender, immediate moment, the deep disappointment of not winning seemed louder than the accomplishment of finishing second in the world. It was disappointment, failure… maybe even shame.

Such is a curious thing. Zig Ziglar often said, “Disappointment is a temporary detour on the road to success.” It aligns with the familiar wisdom that this, too, shall pass. The way a person feels right now is not the way they will or must always feel… no matter how big the moment may be.

So my prayer for the Canadian men’s hockey team — and perhaps for all of us — is that when the moment is no longer so raw, when the cameras have turned away and the arena has emptied, the dense fog of deep disappointment clears.

And when it does, may there be recognition — not of what wasn’t, but of what was.

Second in the world.

What a remarkable thing.

Respectfully…

AR