This weekend I have had balls bouncing around in my noggin. If it wasn’t a basketball, it was a football. And I know more rules, and recognize more plays than I ever have before. If you have any technical questions about either sport, just write to me, and I will funnel your questions to Fred. 

And no, I cannot answer the question why we experienced such a bummer losing week this past week. The Chiefs lost, KU lost, K-State lost, and Wichita lost. It’s all pretty bleak. It’s enough to make one sit down and watch a corny Hallmark flick, and eat all the leftovers. Boo hoo and boo hoo.

However, I found a cure. And although I have very little regard for the movie industry these days, I believe there just might be some hope. Maybe, just maybe, they might stop swearing, and cursing, making trashy movies, and pushing their agenda for promiscuity after all. I grabbed my blanket, and headed to see “Westside Story” a few nights ago.

I first saw this movie when I was still in college, back in the dark ages. Like most of my women friends, I learned the words to all the songs, and I felt my heart beat faster when I watched the dances between the Jets and the Sharks, feeling every move and step. 

“Puerto Rico, my heart’s devotion. May it sink into the ocean!” Or how about, “Maria, I once knew a girl named Maria, and suddenly that name will never be the same to me.”

When our kids were little sprouts, I would play the 33 rpm record on our big stereo. The album cover was in a red, cardboard wrapper. Then, I would dance to the melodies and they would dance along with me as we sang those songs. Something in that movie touched me deeply, and I still have those twinges when I hear the music.

Music Theater then presented the West Side Story on stage and I first then realized the score and the story are the ingredients for great theater. 

And now, someone in Hollywood got the idea to remake this movie ... this wonderful, updated, movie with new talent, and amazing music.

“West Side Story” was at our local movie theater, so I decided on the spur of the moment to go. I thought it might heal my wounded soul that mourned losing all these games. 

And guess what? It did heal me. I sat there, engrossed in the beautiful story depicting a modern Romeo and Juliet all over again. Young love. Man thinks sweetheart is dead. Man dies unnecessarily because of his grief, and sees just in time that she is still alive. 

I bawled. Tears rolled down my face. The movie dug down in parts of me I don’t think have been disturbed in a long time ...  Sure glad the theater was dark. 

Nothing like a good, heart wrenching, kick in the emotional control center, cry. 

Yes. I think now, I can go on. Bring on the next ball game. I can handle it. 

Judi Tabler lives in Pawnee County and is a guest columnist for the Great Bend Tribune. She can be reached at juditabler@gmail.com.