I may as well be up front about it... I sucked at school yard games. Couldn't run fast, throw straight or take a ball in the head without crying.

While the rules escape me now, I do remember frequent games of Red Rover, in the back playground of elementary school. I remember the feeling of standing with the clutch of kids, waiting for my turn to hurl myself at the human chain several feet away. There was strategy to the game... always looking for the smallest kid with the thinnest arms, and weakest grip. That poor kid had flaming red arms by the end of the game... everybody stuck with what was working!

I never understood the point of the game. Oh, intellectually I understood to merits of winning... of being the coolest in school, until the next recess. But I never understood the point of winning... only to stand alone.

I guess I can share a secret after all these years. I always cheated. I always aimed for the medium sized kids, and always held a little back.

I didn't want to break the chain. I wanted to join the chain.

There was something so powerful to me about being in that chain. About gripping onto each other tightly. About choking up on the grip when you were losing strength. About relying on the person beside you, whether the well established system of cliques would ever allow you to stand this close to each other after the game or not. Breathing hard together. Laughing together. Loved that chain!

I was thinking today, as I was having my daily fix of blogs from people I have come to admire greatly (in a very short period of time), that I have found myself in a game of Red Rover. Scott was the first I spotted on the field. I spotted several others soon after. And today I realized that these folks have let me into their chain. Cool!

I have a friend in Florida. Haven't known him long, but have come to really value his friendship. He's been very open about his struggles with me. I have been much less so. Today I told him about this site. I'm pretty sure it will show him a side of me which will surprise him... and maybe not in a good way.

And I'm standing in the chain, looking down the field, and I'm yelling "Red Rover, Red Rover, I'm calling K over". And somehow I know that if he chooses to break the chain instead of joining it, someone will be there to link up arms with me again.