The Second Week in April

This week is sorta big for me, really.

It features two events of religious significance for me. Sunday is Easter Sunday, arguably the most significant religious holiday (OK, not arguably, in my eyes, but I do make the occasional attempt to be politically correct) now, where was I? Ah, yes, Easter Sunday is the most significant religious holiday of the year. That sunrise service just resonates the themes of resurrection and redemption, or for the kids, who are too young to completely grasp the whole idea of sacrifice, Resurrection and redemption, their tradition is multi-colored plastic eggs filled with enough crap to give them tummy aches for weeks. Still, all in, the Easter observance, the traditions around it and the season in which it falls -- Spring -- all cast palpable reminders of redemption and starting anew. It is my favorite holiday by far, and certainly the most significant.

This year, it coincides with The Masters, golf's marquee event. This one is "religious" in quotation marks. (See "unhealthy attachment" in the next sentence...)

In 1986, I hadn't yet begun to play the game, let alone establish what my wife now calls an "unhealthy attachment" to it. And, as I left for a softball game on that second Sunday in April, I glanced at my TV to see that Jack Nicklaus was "out of the running." Two hours later, I returned, flipped on the TV to see him walking up the hill on #18 with tears in his eyes, and realized in an instant that I had missed one of sports' defining moments. (Not the sport of golf, but sport...as in all of 'em.) No TIVO then, and it so happens I was one of the 93% of people who hadn't yet learned to run their VCR, so thank heavens for Golf Channel Classics!

They tie together for me; Easter, hugely significant in the grand scheme of life, and The Masters, significant in the grand scheme of enjoying that life while we're tied to this rock. Each Spring, I am reminded of the redemption and the resurrection that guarantees it, and I am reminded that Faith, the kind with the upper-case "F" is at the core of everything. And, each Spring, I meet my buddy Tony at the club, and we watch a weekday afternoon's worth of the Masters, invariably mentioning that day in 1986 when golf began to matter for me, and invariably reminded that faith, the kind with the lower-case "f," is at the core of accomplishing great things, even in the face of long odds.

It's going to be a good week...