He was slowly beginning to slip out of sight. His days in the sun had become memories and he found himself receding into a kind of obscurity. He’d become a grey ghost standing on the sidelines of life. It was not an easy place to be, yet he felt a certain sense of freedom and peace about it – nothing more to prove or to compete with.
I was watching a cricket Test the other day. A particular bowler was struggling with his bowling and was being hit all over the pitch. One of the commentators really had a go at him and announced that he needed “to keep it simple” – a little phrase I’ve heard over and over again in cricket commentaries. This time there was no response from his colleague, only an awkward silence; then the words, “What do you mean by, simple?” Again an awkward silence, and then a rather hesitant response, “You know, I’m not sure.” I loved his honesty, but I couldn’t help thinking of all those fashionable little phrases we use so glibly without really knowing what they mean.
Funny how, without any invitation, certain memories just pop into your mind. The other day it was the case with “Ronny.” I knew him well. The normal thing for him was to be out of the normal. I admired that until I saw his aggressiveness towards the world going beyond the bounds. I knew then something was locked up inside of him. Tragically, “Ronny” never lived a full life. He turned his aggression onto himself. To this day the haunting questions yearn to be answered.
