Aitkin Age column: The sport I know best

My latest column for the Aitkin Independent Age is more local, and even personal, in its subject matter, but I want my blog readers to know: it's about one of the best men I've ever known, and now we're in great need of prayers for his healing from several severe injuries from an accident. Thank you.

   I grew up knowing next to nothing about sports.
   When I was very little, my family went to a few baseball games at the Astrodome. (That shows how long ago this was.) I hardly paid attention to the game; the draw for me was ice cream, peanuts and lemon slushies. But over time, I did – very basically – learn how baseball worked.
   That was the extent of my sports knowledge until, in college, I went to study abroad in Northern Ireland. We studied, then attended a game of the at-least 1,600-year-old sport of hurling. It was quite chaotic and the players were very passionate; sticks were broken, they kept playing after helmets fell off and intentional personal fouls happened almost every time a goal was made.
   This covers all my knowledge of sports up until last year, when my sister and I moved to Aitkin and started attending Gobbler football games.

Read the rest here.