Life Immitates Kevin Smith

Art reflects life. And life reflects art. And sports reflect both, or neither. Something like that. I can never quite remember.

I had a chance to watch the Lions play a football game this year in person. They played the Ravens in Baltimore. It was pretty abysmal. I mean, the Lions suck. Calvin Johnson couldn’t even come up with his garbage time TD reception, instead dropping (another) pass in the end zone. The final score was something like 1,492-3 (look it up if you don’t believe me, I dare you!). And yet, for a fleeting moment, there was a bright spot for the Lions.

Kevin Smith was amazing. He juked. He exploded into “holes” created by his “linemen”. Late in the third quarter he even caught a pass across the middle and started to make something out of it. And then sports reflected art. Or life. Something like that…

ACLs are an amazing thing. This tiny little strip of organic mass is all that separates the fastest, strongest, and most amazing of us from quivering masses of flesh unable to do the smallest task. It’s quite obvious that ancient Greeks really didn’t know what the hell they were talking about in human anatomy, or it would have been Achilles’ ACL. Then again, that doesn’t sound very poetic, so I’ll grant them artistic license on the matter. The point being that everyone likes to complain about video games where the villain has one specific spot you should hit him, yet God beat them to the punch on this thousands of years ago (art imitating life?).

So when this human gazelle, who had astonished us all day by gaining positive yards while wearing a blue lion on his helmet, was finally tackled on this play, none of us thought anything of it. But then he stayed down. And then they showed the replay. And his knee did the hokey-pokey all on it’s own, and everyone knew. As the training staff ran onto the field, sports imitated life.

See, the thing about life is that it’s short. On a cosmic level, human being have a very short lifespan. There are trees that are older than many people in America think the universe is. I'm not kidding. The current average life span is 67.2 years. Turtles outlive us, though we do get to be prettier than them for part of our lives.

And that’s the tragedy in this. Kevin Smith is young. He was 5 days away from turning 23 when this happened. And he will never be the same. Sure, he’ll “heal” at some point (hopefully), but he’ll never be what he was. Nobody ever comes back fully from an injury like this. Hell, even QBs are sidetracked from what they were by this injury (see: Brady, Tom; Palmer, Carson), and all they have to do is stand there and throw. The idea that Smith will ever cut like he did; move like he did? That’s a pipedream.

And that’s life. We age. We get older. We lose what we were. And ultimately we’re shuffled off this mortal coil. Kevin will play again, but he won’t be the same. He’ll be older, he’ll be slower, and eventually he’ll be replaced and out of the league. It’s quite the metaphor for what will happen to us all some day. And just as in life, it won’t really be his choice; the choice will be made for him. Even the player who retires doesn’t fully choose to walk away; they simply recognize that they can no longer play. Nobody retires when they’re an all-pro (except pot-heads and Lions running backs, which is quite ironic!).

Ultimately, that was what struck me as Kevin was carted off the field, towel over his head. It was a bitter reminder of how fragile, and ultimately passing, the greater picture is. The very next play, the Lions had someone else ready to fill his spot. The gears of the NFL must march on. It must, for sports is simply a metaphor for life. One minute Kevin Smith was here, the next he was gone. And without a hiccup, football continued.

Someday life will do the same.