What does it mean to be loving? When Dr. Ross asked me to give a grad at grad reflection I didn’t know I would be following the Director of the FBI and our very own budding politician, Mr. Joseph Scarpelli. I was also worried it might have something to do with being academically excellent or being more religious. Coming from someone who didn’t find their college library until sophomore year and has always tight roped the Jewish and Catholic religions, I was relieved when she told me it would be on loving. This was something I thought I could work with. I grew up in a close knit family consisting of, my mom, dad, and younger brother, Tyler who some of you actually know. Other than school, family values and friends, my life pretty much revolved around sports. All day every day for as far back as I can remember I would be playing, watching, mimicking, talking and reading about sports. In my mind, I was on a first name basis with Michael, Barry, Randy, Allen, Nomar, Mariano, Derek, Pedro, and Wayne. These were my idols. And actually, last night I felt like a kid again, staying up late, watching Kobe drop 60 in his very last NBA game. Basketball and football were always fun to play, but in my town, in Arlington, Massachusetts, hockey and baseball were king. From the old timers who didn’t miss a practice, let alone a game, to the little kids running around, every single ballfield or rink we played in was filled with fans. It made the games feel even that much more special, elevating the energy and excitement each time we put on those Arlington jerseys. From the ages of 8 through 18 I now realize how lucky I was. In the fall and winter we would sometimes play up to 80 hockey games, traveling to tournaments, sharing hotel rooms and tight quarters and going through all those ups and downs together as a team. Once we got to high school, we were fortunate enough to play for state titles in front of sold out crowds at Boston University and Boston College. In baseball it was all about winning that Little League or Babe Ruth town championship in late spring and when the seasons changed, it was onto All-Stars and travel leagues that played for district, state and regional championships the entire summer. In high school, scouts and radar guns would come and go, but our fans never left. As I prepared for this reflection I realized I had taken something for granted all these years. When we were competing on the field or the ice, we were at all times surrounded by overwhelming love. Love from our families, from our friends, from our teachers,
from our coaches, and from those other fans ages 5 to 95 years old, some of which we may not have even know. When you take a step back and think about it, that is a special feeling. Now we all know that it’s easy to measure someone’s fortitude when they are on top, but what about their courage and their continual love when they go through moments of adversity. Lebron James has had his fair share of failures in the NBA Finals, Tom Brady has twice made it all the way to the final game, only to watch the Giants host the Super Bowl trophy. And how about most recently, the young golf phenom, Jordan Spieth who fell apart on the back 9 at The Masters. When you suffer these heart aching, crushing defeats, it is at this moment when you really need that love. I can remember it like it was yesterday, Arlington High squaring off against Catholic Memorial at a sold out Boston University, in the semifinals of the Super 8 Tournament. The public school vs. the catholic school. We had beat CM once earlier in the year and they had just beat us a week ago in the double elimination tournament. So this was it, winner moves on to play for the state championship, while the loser goes home. Well, we were able to hang with them for one period, but when all the dust settled let’s just say, things did not exactly go as planned that night. Instead of a locker room filled with boisterous boys blurting BIGGIE and Bone-Thugz lyrics, we were left in absolute silence as we watched the puddles under our skates continue to grow. Picture an entire locker room covered with the tears of young high school boys who’s season has just come to a crashing halt. It was devastating. After a few minutes of letting that really sink in, our coach and our captain got up from their seats and walked around the entire room. As they hugged each person they let them know how special they were, how much they meant to the team, and how much they LOVED playing with and/or coaching them. It was a special moment and one I will absolutely never forget. There were a lot of tears, but more importantly, there was a lot of love in that locker room. About eight years prior to that crushing loss to CM, my little league team, the Sons of Italy was squaring off against VFW for the town championship. To say we were a little overmatched, would be an understatement, but as a 10 year old kid I was convinced we could win. Well similarly to my previous story from above, this
one did not go as planned either. We actually got smoked, it wasn’t very close. I guess I kept it together after the game and during the ride home, but once we got to my house, I went to our backyard and sat alone. After a few minutes of sitting alone, I started to weep, I mean I started to really cry, full blown tears. My brother could hear me from inside the house. He simply walked outside, sat down next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He then gave me a big hug and I collapsed into his arms. Here was my little brother having the wherewithal at the age of 7 to know that at that moment, I needed the kind of embrace that only a brother, sister or parent can give. Again, another feeling and another moment I will never forget. So what am I trying to say? Why am I telling you about my “Glory Days”? And why am I sharing the stories that end in tears, rather than the ones that end hoisting a trophy? I guess I am trying to say that there are valuable lessons that can be learned from being a part of a team, a group or a school and working together towards a common goal. I guess I’m trying to say that being loving towards somebody, whether that person is family member, a friend, a classmate, a teammate, or colleague can have a much bigger effect on that person then you may ever know. It could brighten their day, it could be the highlight of their last week or even month, and maybe just maybe they will be talking about that moment to a group of students some 15-20 years down the road. I guess I’m saying don’t let a chance slip by where you could have been loving. Instead of sulking or staying down after a loss, why not try to console the others around you who may be going through the same thing. Remind them how much they mean to you, how much they mean to others and how much you love them. What about your “annoying” little brother or sister, or your parents who are always nagging you. Every now and then, make sure you stop what you’re doing, as important as snapchat may be, and let them know how much you love them. This can be a pat on the back, an arm around the shoulder, a big hug, or simply a “thank you” or “I love you” instead of a mumbled “yeah yeah yeah” as you run out the door on a Saturday night. When you take a step back and think about things I think you will find that while you’re walking in the halls, coming into assembly, sitting in class, relaxing in the commons, acting on stage, playing in front of your classmates and fans, or you yourself are one of those fans cheering on your peers, to steal a quote from Jack
Mullin’s favorite movie, you will find that “Love Actually is all around you” at all times. It is this love that you will remember when you leave Loyola. Thank you.