A lot of people say that there’s no place for God on the sportscourt. I’ve always disagreed. When you get out there and start lobbing long ones, it doesn’t matter whether your opponent believes in reincarnation, Jesus or science – balls is balls and they’ll hit hard.
It means that for a beautiful moment on this troubled earth, everyone wants everyone’s blood regardless of colour or creed or faith – and in the pursuit of points for a good fun sport.
Apparently, this beautiful sentiment is controversial. Not for the first time, my Easter Interfaith Tournament came under fire from the heads of several institutions who maintained that my regular interfaith dodgeball tournaments contravened the doctrines of their faith. Sacrilege, even.
Well I say, no goal!
I’m not ashamed to be a trailblazer for headlines about religious conflicts that aren’t bloody. People want to see Buddhist monks smashing Muslims on the dodgeball pitch, not in the violence-plagued Rakhine region of Burma.
As the loud few who would take issue with this beautiful celebration of what it is to be human (and a dodgeballer) gather their pickets and start to chant “God hates dodgeball” and all the other anti-dodgeball slogans we’ve become accustomed to, fortify yourself against the hatred, arm yourself with your weapons of peace, and take your place on the dodgeboards. When you play, play for your pride and your pride in your god or gods.
If ours is a world in which a man who prays towards Mecca five times a day can’t throw a dodgeball at a fella in a Sikh turban, well sir, I just don’t know if it’s a world I want to have any part in.
