Adjacent News

It is, of course, entirely possible that I am simply looking in the wrong corner of the lower annex, or perhaps misremembering the exact shelf where the auxiliary folding chairs reside during this quiet bye week. One never wishes to make a fuss or imply that anyone has been careless with the church basement inventory, particularly when everyone is working so diligently behind the scenes. Still, as we approach the midweek lull on campus, a rather noticeable emptiness pervades the storage corridor near the gymnasium floor where the Golden Eagles typically stack their collapsible seating after a long stretch of conditioning drills.

For three consecutive afternoons now, the designated space for rows twelve through fifteen has presented a stark, echoing vacancy. One hates to draw hasty conclusions or suggest that a divine test of patience is underway, but when thirty-four heavy-gauge steel chairs vanish alongside a box of reinforced masking tape and two laminated seating charts for the mid-season fellowship social, it tends to prompt a quiet, introspective gulp. One wonders if perhaps these items have simply felt called to a higher purpose elsewhere in Tulsa, or if they have quietly relocated in search of a more welcoming environment where the floor wax is less slippery during Wednesday night youth lock-ins.

Naturally, no one in the athletic department wishes to point fingers or burden the coaching staff with inquiries while they are busy mapping out defensive rotations for the upcoming month. Everyone has a great deal on their plate, and the last thing one desires is to cause an awkward silence in the breakroom by asking direct questions about missing property. When the equipment manager was approached near the water cooler on Tuesday morning, he offered a very pleasant nod and mentioned that the weather has been remarkably cooperative lately. I agreed with him wholeheartedly, of course, because arguing about barometric pressure seemed far easier than pressing the matter of the absent seating. Yet the mystery remains as stubbornly unsolved as a difficult conversion on a rainy Sunday.

Perhaps it is all part of a larger, unseen design, a gentle heavenly nudge reminding us not to lean too heavily upon physical comfort or padded vinyl armrests when we could be standing in quiet contemplation. Even so, the logistical reality of hosting guest speakers or visiting alumni without adequate seating arrangement can induce a mild perspiration. One can only pray that whoever borrowed the chairs—if indeed they were borrowed and not miraculously translated to another plane of existence—might return them before the weekend services resume, preferably without any scuffs on the rubber feet, though one would certainly forgive them even if a few minor scratches were discovered upon close inspection.