I just got finished watching the Texas Longhorns and the Alabama Crimson Tide play for the BCS college football national championship. It was a great game between the top two teams in the country (I took the day off from work to watch it and yes, as a graduate of Texas A&M I might have been rooting against Texas just a bit) and although Alabama ultimately won the night I thought that both teams put forth a valiant effort.
So I was watching the obligatory post-game interviews of coaches and players when Texas' starting quarterback Colt McCoy (yes, people in Texas give their kids names like "Colt"; have you met my twins: Smith and Wesson?), who got injured on the fifth play of the Longhorns' first offensive drive of the first quarter and had to sit out pretty much the entire game, was asked, "What was it like for you to watch this game, your last game in a Longhorn uniform, from the sideline?" As he tried multiple times to answer this obvious yet pointless question, choking up more than once in the process, after one of the most devastating disappointments of his life on national television I was really feeling bad for the kid. He finally squeezed out some words about loving the game of football, wishing he could have played tonight and gave praise to his backup quarterback and the skills displayed by the other team. Classy. And then he said something that made me feel a little more sorry for him:
I always give God the glory. I never question why things happen the way they do. God is in control of my life, and I know if nothing else I'm standing on the rock.Really? So let me get this straight: You've been playing football pretty much your entire life. You obviously love the game and it is among your great passions. You spent every summer you can remember running through two-a-day practices in the brutal Texas heat. You won all kinds of awards and distinctions as one of the best high school quarterbacks in the state, and you went on to do the same in college. After your team won a national championship when you were red-shirted your freshman year, you led them to four winning regular seasons leading up to this: the last game of your college career and it's for the national championship. This game was the culmination of everything you've fought and worked for your entire life... and five plays in, God decided He didn't want to let you play. And you're cool with that?
This is one of many reasons why not only can I not believe in a god, but also why I don't want to. I fail to understand the satisfaction or comfort derived from believing that there is an all-powerful being out there who has the ability to take something this important away from a person, without any apparent reason and seemingly on a whim. And yes, I've heard: "He works in mysterious ways". So do ninjas, but I would never willingly cede them control of my life. Of course, McCoy is going to move on to a career in the NFL where he'll make tens of millions of dollars and have his pick from a Tiger Woods-sized bevy of hot chicks so perhaps there is something to his faith but personally, I'd still need more proof than that. But I'm a cynic, so there you go.