The Twelve
Hailing from different corners of the country, twelve boys came together for a purpose. They raised their hands and showed up. And they were chosen.
There were a few average fishermen, some really loud ones, a money guy, a couple dudes with the same name, a radical and even a Bartholomew. In time, Jesus got a hold of each one. They wanted to be better men, and in the process, they became brothers. And they changed their world.
Now, lest you think you know this story, my friend, you do not. This is not the dozen who kicked the dust of ancient Israel. These are a rabble from Restoration Project who are still kicking, caring and creating on the field of manhood in modern day USA. Their world changing continues.
Our story takes place in 2022, over texts, taunts and trades. With way more texts than taunts, and barely any trades… except for one very early in the season that was less “trade” and more “take.” Dear reader, let me introduce you to our fantasy football league.
But first, consider these three things about brotherhood that you can learn from our raucous football sideshow:
Laughter Wins
Adversity Bonds
Strangers Unite
Laughter. Our group wouldn’t trade our text exchange for anything. Picks and tricks, memes and emojis, screenshots and selfies. As the season rolled on, a pile of 30 unread messages could appear in a matter of minutes and deliver a priceless bounty of laughter. A mattress stuffed with $5 bills is a puff of smoke compared to the endorphin overload from the playful frolic of our iPhone exchanges. It was epic. And fun.
Adversity. We all experience competition, be it the commute or credit, the boardroom or bench press, real football or fantasy. Setting your starting lineup when your best players were injured or on a bye was a challenge we all faced. Weekly, we scuffled with players that often defied the expert opinions and our best guesses. There was never a sure win, unless you were playing Josh. Then you would win. Josh knew adversity best.
Strangers. Most of us weren’t close when we started, so everyone had to figure out how this random mix of men would interact on a group chat. Some guys shared a little, others shared a lot. Kevin overshared, often. But as it began, we had to get through the comparison game that tags along unlooked for when men form a group. Like a blindside blitzing linebacker, the “I’m not as…” thoughts tackled us as we internally measured the guy next to us.
“I’m not as funny as Kevin, the GIF-Slaying, String-Pulling Commish, who set the rules, called Roger Goodell “Roge,” and told the rest of us, ‘Dance, Puppets.’”
“I’m not as loyal as Reza, the Riding-with-Russell Bronco, whose Denver NFL team endured brutal defeats while his FFL team blasted us week after week.”
“I’m not as honest as Nick, the Indy-Laughing-Stocker, whose claim to fame was actually giving props to Reza’s Broncos by slamming his last place Colts.”
“I’m not as jovial as Josh, the Ricky-Bobby-Roller who took first last year, and successfully followed it up with a hilarious freefall to last place this year. We salute your adversity.”
“I’m not as clever as Shae, the Viking-Receiver-Raider, who boldly selected only his native Minnesota Vikings for his FFL roster, even if they belonged to someone else’s roster. SKOL!”
“I’m not as international as “some-call-it-soccer” Michael, who may have thought he was signing up for a British Premier League Football thing.”
“I’m not as smart as Miah, the Flying-Philly-Eagle-Fan, who never misspeeled his E-A-G-L-E-S… AND also picked them to WIN IT.” (Never count your money, while you’re sitting at the table…)
“I’m not as cultured as Tim, the Recovering Texan, who spent his $5 winnings on an extra helping of Orange Chicken at Panda Express.”
“I’m not as calculated as Cody, Fear-the-Bengal-Beard, who out traded, out scored, and out laughed us every week while allegedly rigging the league with his co-conspirator, the commish.”
“I’m not as passionate as Robin, the All-American Cowboy, who became the league’s Official Investigator into corruption, collusion and complacency. And there was A LOT.”
“I’m not as dominating as Nic, the 6’4” Hobbit Butt-Kicker, who not only won it all this year, but also got a Tolkien tattoo and became a first-time dad during the season.”
“I’m not as obnoxious as Bart, the Over-Emotional, Under-Regulated, Oddly-Fanatical and Still-Thirsty college football fan in a pro football fantasy league. Go BLUE!”
Back to the original twelve Jesus picked 2000 years ago. Did they laugh at the wedding in Cana, or when they retold Peter's fishing fails? I’m sure they did. Think about the men in your circle. Are there epic tales of adventures, dangers, and “hold my beer” moments? I’ve heard that we cannot love someone we cannot laugh with. And in the melee of life, with challenges and setbacks, it is critical to connect with each other over laughter. Have you made space for it in your community? Laughter Wins.
What about adversity? Did the twelve face this with Jesus? After Jesus? Of course they did. What are you wrestling with at home, with your extended family, your health or your career? What battles are you facing inside that don’t easily show up on the surface? When things get tough, men often double down in silence. Solo is risky. But fighting from a foxhole can be a safe place to face adversity, provided you aren’t in it alone. Are you allowing others access to the adversity you are contending against? Adversity Bonds.
And finally, strangers. Who liked Matthew the tax collector when they first met him? Or James and John, the sons of Thunder? Morons, I’m sure. Were they tempted to stay disconnected as strangers just following their rabbi in safe, socially-distant spaces? Initially, probably, but in the end, I don’t think they did. They stuck with it. Likewise, each of us has been a stranger. We have all been the new guy somewhere. And, to different degrees, we’ve also had moments of connection, if we can get past comparing ourselves to others.
So how do we get this elusive brotherhood we’re made for? I think it grows quietly in the background while the louder laughter and anxious adversity hold center stage. As we laugh with those we love and bond through adversity, we stick with it to discover that we’re strangers no longer. All brothers begin as strangers, but that starting point need not be our final destination. It may take a football season or two, but as the years pile up–and believe me, years matter–we find that our journey of highs and lows changes the overall narrative from Strangers Alone to Brothers Unite.
The twelve of us clearly have our inside-jokes and stories. Forgive us this revelry. But what about your group? The basement bible study, the Friday coffee shop crew, or the monthly cornhole and whisky in a barn thing? What are your unique stories, and have you told them lately? And if you are looking for a connection like this, laugh with the men around you, fight from the same foxhole and press into the future of brotherhood.
______________________________
Bart Lillie | Michigan Wolverine and initial FFL owner of Minnesota Vikings superstar, Justin Jefferson
PS. If ever given an opportunity to trade the #1 Fantasy Football Receiver for a bottle of whisky with Shae, I would advise you to decline.
