Look, all I can really say is that this day could have been a lot worse. On this day, I drove to Iowa City to watch Iowa play Michigan State and attend Megan Gustafson’s jersey retirement ceremony. (I wrote a really cool article about it, too.) When I got there, I learned that a sports figure, his daughter, and seven others died in a horrific accident. The sports figure had a past such that I felt massively conflicted about his death. Outside the arena, I spoke on the phone with a friend, willing them to not bring it up, but they found out what happened while we were talking. I went inside, expecting this tragedy to take precedence, if not leave a dark shadow over the day. But the more people I was near, the more conversations I overheard, it was clear: everyone was here for the game. For the ceremony. The only sports figure anyone talked about in any detail was Megan Gustafson.
I could have spiraled. If I hadn’t been at this game, for this event, I would have spiraled. But I was, and so I didn’t. I took this picture to remember my happiness — and my relief. (And then, less than two months later, the world shut down. But still.)