Swallowing the Trophy of Comparison
My name is Chuck Carr. I’m 43 years old. I was born in the cold of December, in the grand ol’ era of 1977. Some might say I’m still wet behind the ears. My kids, they say I’m a dinosaur. Regardless of the viewpoint of perspective, most would agree that yes, I’m midlife.
Let’s go back in time. For those who were alive at the time, 1977 was a good year. Gas was $0.65 a gallon and the average cost of a new house was only $49,300. Life was a lot simpler back then. Besides my birth, there were some other big events happen in 1977. America got the chance to see the glitz and glitter that was buried with King Tut as his treasures were on tour inside the United States. The Eagles won a Grammy award for record of the year with Hotel California. Laverne & Shirley topped the charts for television programs. A favorite of mine, Star Wars took the screen by storm, laying down the foundation of a movie series that would captivate for generations to come. I still love to put on those movies today. There were plenty of enjoyable things that filled the history books forty three years ago. One, in particular, was brought to our awareness this past week.
On August 3, 1977, Tom Brady was born.
Love him or hate him, there was no doubt left to wonder as Tom Brady raised the Superbowl MVP trophy up into the air. He is the GOAT. Greatest quarterback of all time. Critics early in his career have nothing to say any longer. With seven Superbowl victories in ten appearances, along with five Superbowl MVP’s, nobody knows the thrill of being on top like Tom Brady. He has worked harder, been determined longer, and showed more dedication than anyone in the sport, proving that he has what it takes time after time.
And he claims he’s still not stopping. Wow! Is it possible to achieve more?
So even though viewer attendance was low for the 2021 Superbowl due to Covid, roughly 96.4 million people, it’s still safe to say that many watched the show. I have no idea how they figure out viewer ratings, and it really doesn’t matter. Simply put, there were still a ton of people who turned on the tube and watched the GOAT march his team like an orchestrating conductor, having little resistance from the opposing side. 96.4 million people watched Tom Brady do what nobody else in history has done. 96.4 million people watched him hoist the trophy, kiss his wife, and hug his family.
96.4 million people watched history.
And then, the next day, morning came.
Growing up, I had football heroes. I was a huge Joe Montana fan. I watched every game I could, read all the articles I could find, and when he broke his hand during that heartbreaking moment in an NFC playoff game against the NY Giants, I may have cringed as much as he did. My hero was hurt, my favorite team not able to be threepeat champions, and at Montana’s age, breaking his hand now might end a career of glory. Screws were surgically installed and he went through the rehab to play again. But looking back, Montana would only play one more game in 49er uniform, ever. My hero would soon retire.
But that was when I was young.
Back then, not only the heroes, but all the players were older than I.
But as time went on, nothing stood still. I went on to college, one of 43,000 other students who cheered “Go Blue” at Penn State University. It was great to watch the progress of the season. But when graduation happened, I began to notice that I was now aging ahead of the college boys on screen. It wasn’t much longer after I graduated, got married, and started a family, that I realized I was older than the next Heisman great. Soon, I was older than those that were seated in cushioned contracts on high profile NFL teams. Time continued. I watched my favorites retire. It was sad to see some of them leave the field. I saw Walter Peyton’s last game. Eric Dickerson’s as well. Who could forget Barry Sander’s last moments in Lion’s uniform? I watched Troy Aikman’s entire career, going from the UCLA poster boy to one of the best who ever put on a cowboy jersey. The greats of the sport were hanging up their cleats left and right, and I could feel my age stronger and stronger, as the words I’d never thought I’d say became more frequent: “Back when I was. . .” Yeah. You’ve said them too.
And now, here I was, witnessing the GOAT win his seventh Superbowl title.
Had it not been for listening intently to the game, I might have missed it. It was short. It was subtle. But it was spoken, and when it was, it shot into my core like cannon fire.
Tom Brady and I are the same age. He is 43 years old.
I am curious how many of the 96.4 million people who watched the game woke up the next day wondering the same thing I did. When morning came, how many had realized that the GOAT had not only achieved everything that there was to achieve in football, but also seemed to be living the American dream better than any other as well. Tom Brady was the American dream, wasn’t he? He was the quarterback, the leader of the team, the one that all the eyes were watching. His beautiful Brazilian wife came to congratulate him. Doesn’t the quarterback always get the girl? His beautiful family embraced him with hugs. They were proud of their dad. Affirmed and acknowledged, the whole world saw how happy he was. Was there anything Tom Brady didn’t have?
How many people woke up Monday morning wondering where their life was headed? How many others wondered what on earth they were doing with themselves? Midlife crisis hit like a missile? Did you take a mental inventory of things as well? Did the knock of depression tap on your front door?
I’ve often said, the fastest way to misery is by the use of comparison. But we do it all the time. I woke up Monday morning, and it was almost automatic. Here is an example of such self talk:
I’m 43 years old. What do I have to show for myself?
Tom Brady had the eyes of the world on him last night. How hard am I beating my head against a wall to gain an audience as an author?
Boy, Tom Brady isn’t even gray yet. He doesn’t seem to be losing any hair. How big is my thin spot again?
Look how happy he is with Gisele on his arm. My marriage struggles at times. His looks perfect. Why can’t I get smiles like that all the time?
His kids are running into his arms and embracing him. Look how happy that family looks. They don’t seem like they have any problems.
And then, we hear that Tom Brady says he will be back next year. Really?
Yes, Monday morning was hard for me. Maybe it hit me harder because we are the same age, but my sweetie made a joking comment as well. My wife also looked him up when I brought this to her attention at breakfast. Guess what she did? The exact same thing. She read that Tom Brady has a blended family. "Hey, he's the same as us!" But digging in a bit further, seeing perfection is hard to handle. Seeing all the smiles and hugs that he got from his blended family brought hard feelings to her as well, a twinge of jealousy. Blended families are not always easy. In those difficult moments, one could certainly have a hard time watching Tom’s family give hugs. My wife greatly desires things in life too, and one of them is for the family we have to have finally “cooked” as Family Life expert Ron Deal explains in his book The Smart Stepfamily.
But isn’t that how it works? The feelings I had, the feelings that I’m sure other 43-year-old men had as well, isn’t that how it gets under your skin? Some had feelings of despondency because you are struggling financially, and it appears that Tom is not. Some of you are single, or struggling in a relationship, and when Gisele hangs on Tom’s arm it turns your stomach sour. Doesn’t everyone want a model for a girl? A champion quarterback for a guy? Maybe you were on the fast track to fame and fortune and by the hand of injury or accident been given a new set of cards- ones that you don’t know how to play, and ones that certainly are not getting you to where Tom Brady is.
But are these things all that they’re cracked up to be?
Doesn’t comparison rob us of the blessings in life? Joy?
So what is the secret? What does the bible say about having this joy stolen? Should I really be jealous of a man who holds the American dream in his hand?
Luke 18:9-14
He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other.
Now I’m not saying anything about Tom’s spiritual standing. I just thought it was a great verse on comparison. In light of this, let me propose a question: if we compared the two in this parable, which man should be the one going home with a smile on his face? Is the way we compare people, situations, and circumstances always accurate?
Yes, comparison destroys our joy. But you might say. . . Tom Brady looks pretty happy! Well, I am thrilled that he is too. I’m also thrilled he is enjoying being on the top. Today’s post is not about Tom Brady. Today’s post is about you.
You have to have joy. You have to get out of the gutter of despair or discontent with your life. You need to be in the limelight of where God wants you. When we take off the tainted glasses of comparison, then we can see more clearly what actually lies in our hands.
Though I was disappointed that I wasn’t in Tom Brady’s shoes, would I really want to trade places with him? Not really. Why, you might ask?
Because I’m living my purpose right now. In the past 43 years of searching for who I am and what on earth I’m supposed to do with my life, I’ve now found it. Can you put a price tag on that? I’m a son of God Almighty. Can I put a price tag on that either? Absolutely not! Though I don’t have Tom Brady’s bank account, my needs are being provided for. I’m thankful for that. I’m happy being a man who can share my faith and lessons learned with others. I’m happy writing books. I have a beautiful family, one God is cooking together with a savory aroma of peace and joy. I have a beautiful wife who is perfectly suited to be a biblical helpmeet for me, and I her. She pushes me to dream and then pushes me to chase after the dreams I have floating in my head. Yes, I have so much to be thankful for.
If I take the comparison glasses off, my life looks rather good!
Doesn’t yours as well?
My challenge to you is to do the same as I had to do this week: take off the glasses. The glasses of comparison aren’t any good anyhow. They look horrible on me, and they look horrible on you. Once you take them off, you’ll see much better, clearer, and have so much joy abounding inside you. You’ll appreciate what God has blessed you with and gratitude will bubble you over. Yes, we can rejoice with others when they succeed in life, but my joy is independent of others. Both can occur.
Next year, I can cheer Tom Brady on as he tries to get an eighth ring. But one thing is for certain. . . whether I ever throw a NFL pass or not, I’m right where God has purposed for me to be. And that, is all that is important.
Enjoy life for what it is. Enjoy your age. Enjoy your blessings.
Don’t compare.
When you stop comparing, you'll hoist your own MVP trophy, even if it's in the shape of a paperback book.
What's your MVP trophy in 2021?
By Chuck Carr