Mike DiMauro: Of Adonis, Tim and a true act of sportsmanship
Nov. 4—In all those places people congregate — bars, bleachers, barber shops, the Human Comments Section — the social and cultural arbiters rarely resist the temptation to lecture us about sportsmanship. Or lack thereof. As if they'd just played 18 with the writers of the Sportsmanship Manual.
Except that true sportsmanship isn't legislated or contrived. It isn't the dreaded handshake line, bereft of eye contact, where "good game" gets mumbled, not conveyed. It isn't the disclaimer read aloud at many high school events now that makes the administrators feel better, but gets arbitrarily ignored by the patrons. True sportsmanship is like, well, pornography. Or at least how former Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart once tried to explain it.
"I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced," Stewart said, "but I know it when I see it."
Indeed. You know it when you see it.
And we saw its best form Thursday night, where the best stories faithfully come from: out of nowhere.
Context and background: This was Thursday night in Ledyard, the conference tournament boys' soccer championships. Nightfall was creeping. The crowd was growing. Between the two ECC title games would be an awards ceremony, inviting players from throughout the league to congregate along the fences. Suddenly, there was a Friday Night Lights feel to the Montville/St. Bernard game that was headed to penalty kicks.
This seasonal endeavor that began for both schools in the sear of summer suddenly became about what the gales of November would remember. It was penalty kick time, not merely for the league title, but for the unofficial Montville town championship, too.
And there, between kicks, pressure increasing, the two goalies ... conversed. Exchanged a grin or two. The two young men who were only carrying the hopes and dreams of a season, all eyes on them, looked about as concerned as two guys getting a tan by the pool.
Imagine: In this era of trash talking — or worse, those who attempt to defend it — where "getting in the other guy's head" has morphed into actual strategy, here were Adonis Santiago of Montville and Tim Regan of St. Bernard talking like two old pals.
Ah, civilization is not dead yet.
Your humble narrator pauses here to remind you that they could have said nothing at all. Or they could have trash talked. But then a funny thing happened. They found a kinship in the cauldron.
"He's a younger goalie and you could tell he hadn't been in that situation," said Santiago, a senior. "I said, 'Just go do your thing.'"
Might the rest of us view this blinding flash of hope as a light for the way? Think about it: Rather than shouting damnation at those from the other side, maybe — and sorry to be so radical here — have an actual conversation? Maybe show a little respect?
Heaven knows your God given right to be right about everything has become more important than a lung to many of you. But maybe, you know, the kids are on to something here?
A seemingly innocent conversation just may be the best thing that's happened on a sporting surface all autumn. And well before that. Unless you consider how the girls' soccer team at Montville presented flowers to their opponents from Lyman Memorial after their championship game the other day. The kids from Lyman played the game early because they had to attend the funeral of a classmate later in the day. The flowers are what's known as an act of compassion. And another glimmer of hope.
Glaring levels of disrespect aren't going anywhere. But we have two choices to combat them: Whine on social media or mimic the kids. As that bumper sticker reads: Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.
And as always, it began with a simple conversation. Adonis Santiago and Tim Regan. Rivals? Sure. But part of the same fraternity. As are we all.
Bravo to them for a real act of sportsmanship. You know it when you see it.
This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro
