We all need a bit of applause

I’m perplexed this week.
Who the hell am I kidding, I’m perplexed every week. But it’s usually something nonsensical and relatively irrelevant.
But I spent an hour of my day Friday away from renovating the bathroom and the four-season room and the exterior of the house, and shopping at Holtkamp’s and Kempker's, and then sweating the purchases that are giving my 160-year-old home a new look…and me an ulcer.
I took an hour off to watch ‘Federer’, a documentary of the final 12 days of arguably (but not too arguably) the greatest tennis player in history. If Rafael Nadal had avoided so many injuries, he could have been in that conversation. No doubt he was/is a great tennis player, but he was limited by the torque he put on his upper body over the past 20 years.
Anyway, this week’s discussion isn’t about who was the greatest. Ivan Lendl’s going to stumble upon this article some day out of the blue and drive to my house and swear at me in a foreign language. He was a bully anyway, so I can deal.
This week’s diatribe is on the celebration of these great athletes. It brought tears to my eyes as Nadal wept after Federer’s last meet at the Laver Cup in London in 2022.
Yeah, I like tennis. Not near as much as my wife and daughter do, but these men and women are warriors. Most people don’t see it. But they can go five hours in a five-set match with very liimited coaching or managing. They have to see and react to the match in front of them without 30 people congregating to come up with the best solution. Even golfers get coaching from caddies.
But it's the celebration by the masses of people that follow these sports that has me thinking this week. Emotions are triggered by other emotions, and I get that, but if you’ve been watching tennis since you were a kid, like I have, you get a sense of loss when your favorites step away from action. Andy Murray was my favorite, but I was a huge Aggasi and Jimmy Conners fan. I root for Americans and I haven't had a lot to root for lately.
These athletes will always be ambassadors and coaches or commentators and stay close to the game they’ve spent their collective lives perfecting.
But isn’t a teacher the same thing? A doctor? A farmer?
I look at John Bohnenkamp who’s spent a good portion of life honing his craft and will there be a place for him to stand on a balcony and waive to fans when he eventually steps away from sports journalism? Doesn’t he commit just as much time to informing readers and teaching future journalists?
Does Brian Mendez get a standing ovation when he’s done coaching cross country? Melissa Freesmeier? Dr. Erin Slater? Dr. Andy Crozier?
Roger Federer has a legacy because his craft is on display in front of millions and it’s a choice. Being a superintendent is a choice, a coach, a writer.
But the effort is the same. Are we not sick, injured, mentally and physically stressed in other occupations?
Federer has a brand that’s recognized around the world, but that’s not a competition against teachers and farmers and doctors and educators and writers, it’s against pro athletes. There’s the competitive ring and it’s fired up by other national brands like Nike and Adidas. It’s that supplemental energy and the audience built that gives them a legacy.
I don’t credit the time spent practicing. In the real world we all do that.
So it comes down what are we looking for? Is it a legacy, or is it something more personal?
The knowledge that we leave our careers a better place than we started. Did we have an impact that’s tangible in our lives. Did we reach personal goals and then step away with sadness, but the knowledge that we did it right?
I’m close to athletics so I compare this to a Ryan Smith who retired from coaching wrestling last year. Sure there were t-shirts and standing Os and that’s even probably too much for Smith. But should it be?
If we all got a stadium full of people applauding and in tears because the active part of our careers ended, then maybe it wouldn’t mean anything because everybody gets it.
There’s no answer to this anywhere in my brain, but it isn’t lost on that many don’t work hard enough to earn that kind of recognition when the work is done.
But many do. And I think most of those people don’t give two shakes if the rest of the world approves of what they’ve done. Their body of work stands on its own. If we, as the working class, are fortunate enough to create a legacy within our family, that’s an honor and a blessing. If that legacy extends beyond the home then it speaks to the body of work. If it goes beyond that, then there are special circumstances in play that have lifted the work to a national or global level.
I guess the real answer, for me anyway, is you work every day with some sense of conviction about the reward of the work. When you retire from your field and you feel you've given all you can, you did it with integrity and perseverance, and you're appreciated for the effort – therein lies the celebration.
But that could all just be a bunch of crap. I don’t know.
What I do know is that I live in a town of about 10,000 people and I know for a fact there are people here that deserve a crowd and applause. I could list the people, but I would forget someone and that’s not what this is about.
Celebrate your work, even before you retire. Look at the body of work and adjust if you need to, but set some goals and go get them. Then when you are done, step away with a smile and, if someone applauds or cries or makes a documentary, just know it was the body of work and not the celebration that matters.
But if you do celebrate, make sure I get an invite. I might cry and I might now, but I’ll applaud because we all need a little of that – but that’s Beside the Point.
Chuck Vandenberg is editor and co-owner of Pen City Current and can be reached at Charles.V@PenCityCurrent.com.