Last week I had a wonderful “coming together” experience at a Wizards basketball game.   It is something that for many years I never thought would happen and then it did.

Since 1974, when I became a professional psychotherapist, counseling patients coping with chronic illnesses, I had always thought there was a complete separation from my daytime work life and my nighttime “going to games” life.   I always felt as though I functioned in two separate and distinct worlds and never the twain shall meet.   Somehow, I never imagined that my patients or the doctors went to games.

Well, only recently, have I realized how narrow my thinking was, even ridiculous. Maybe, it was my need to keep the two worlds separate.

However, this past week, I had the opportunity to bring the two worlds together.  For me, that was extremely gratifying.  Two of my guests at a game were two wonderful doctors (that I have been working with for years) and their families.

They know more about the game than I do.

But, for me, having them there beside me; sharing the experience, made my life come together.

Making it whole, not separated.

People, after all, are not just single entities.  We have multiple “parts” and we’re complicated.

After all, isn’t that what makes us human beings so interesting?

For any rabid sports fan whose fantasy is to someday own a professional team, let me tell you that it isn’t all fun and excitement. Yes, a lot of it IS fun and excitement — I don’t want to be a spoil-sport. It is definitely thrilling to watch your team take the court or the ice or the field – the team that you have spent months building and worried over for months (sometimes years!).
Watching the players come together in a winning game is a real high. Getting into the playoffs is even more thrilling. And, of course, a championship is beyond words.
But, there are the games that also tear your heart out (well, that is a bit strong). There are definitely the games that you need to win that will make a difference toward the end of the season; the ones you need to get into the playoffs and the ones that position you in the playoffs. By this time, you are dreaming of going the “whole way.”
And, no matter how realistic you try to be, your mind is taking you there. And the media and league are beginning to pay attention and put you on national television, even on a Sunday afternoon. This is big!
So now you are past worrying about the injuries and downtimes – all you want to do is win, win big and win with flair. You want to show the world how great you are!
And then…what? After forty-six years in this business, I can still say “what?” Who knows what will happen? Of course, all the experts will seek answers but there are so many variables, so many possibilities, and so many theories. And which is the right one?
Now, I’ve told you the reason so many people love sports world wide. It is the fact of not knowing; not being able to predict the result. It’s the surprise that gives it the thrills.
What fun would it be to know the result before you start? It’s the anticipation at the beginning of each game and the surprise ending that makes sports forever exciting.
However, there is a price.
And that can be a miserable, gut-wrenching loss. And as an owner, you never get over it.
Ouch!

Up until last week, when Ted Leonsis reminded me in an e-mail, that I was the only person in the area with a championship ring, I hadn’t really thought of myself in this way.

Did that make me special….or the ring?

I think it’s the ring.

Of course, I am lucky to have it for many reasons.

One reason: the memories it brings to mind.  Particularly, memories of the season leading up to the final game.  Everything had to come together perfectly, and it did in 1978.  We peaked at the right time and we were fairly healthy coming into the Finals.  And, as we found out during other seasons, at any moment, things can fall apart, especially with injuries.

But, really there is a lot of magic involved and we had several examples of “magic” that year: the “Fat Lady” that Dick Motta introduced, who stuck by us all the way; Abe’s lucky tie that I guarded with my life — no cleaners allowed to touch it.  And General Manager Jerry Sachs’ life was in danger if he forgot the M&M’s!  As for me, I wouldn’t have one hair cut off of my head until the final buzzer of that Championship game.

Did we think we would really do it? Practically, all of us almost stopped breathing; from game to game as the season moved along. We almost stopped speaking to each other for fear of saying the wrong word. We all just continued to move from game to game like robots; turning off our feelings as much as possible.

I would say the ring had our number on it that year. Everything went right for the first time in fifteen years, an almost impossible situation.

Abe never took that ring off of his finger from that moment on (even though it was too big for his hand.)   Still, when Ted Leonsis invited me to represent the Wizards at the 2010 NBA Lottery, I took that ring out of the drawer and wore it to the ceremony.

And it still generated magic….we have John Wall to prove it!

Several weeks ago, I was in a car with a driver on my way to New York to visit family. Looking forward to spending time with them, I was in a very good mood.

I was reading an article in yesterday’s Washington Post sports page about John Wall’s recent struggles since the All-Star break.

While dealing with physical exhaustion, migraines, aches and pains when he still has the rest of the season to complete and compete, I am reminded of so many players like him over the years that I watched battle through these issues.

It reminds me again how difficult a season is for professional athletes.  Of course, the sport I know best is basketball.   I should have learned something after forty-six years of watching some of the best athletes in the world deal with these problems.

Early in our tenure in the sport, I had no understanding of what these talented young men needed to do to play a full season —  the kind of personal, psychological, and physical battles they constantly faced and  how they endure them.  Yes, much of the challenge is physical, including dealing with injuries, rehab, coming back to the team, etc.

But I think the bigger challenge is mental.

What does it take to play through pain, ice the knees on the bench and then get back on the court, while at the same time worry delivering the perfect pass to your teammate and helping your team win.   Not wanting to let your teammates, as well as the coaches and the fans down, as they all have such high expectations.

Yes, they often get great salaries, fame, adoration but the road to get to the NBA and have success is rough and uneven.  It is not the salary that drives John down the court ignoring the pain in his legs but his incredible professionalism — the years of discipline.

What I’ve learned over the years, getting to know so many of these young men, is the kind of mental toughness that very few people have.

Wall played through migraines and a sprained ankle. He is playing not just for himself and his own pride, but also for his teammates and the fans.

John, you are a superstar!   And you are living and playing like the leader everyone looks up to.  I couldn’t have known that when I picked your lottery number!

This is a question that a male friend asked me recently. It is a very good, simple, straight forward one addressed to someone who has been working in the area of heart disease prevention for the past sixteen years.   For those of you who have not had a great deal of experience with heart disease, a  Coronary Stent is a tiny wire mesh tube used to prop open an artery during angioplasty, to open a collapsed, narrow or weak artery, allowing blood to flow freely again. The stent stays in the artery permanently.

Still, it shocked me because I had never heard that question asked before. Yes, of course, I knew that women have stents but why didn’t I hear more about them myself?   Actually, I didn’t know the answer.

This is a question I have been dealing with so long:   why didn’t women talk about their experiences with heart disease?   Even though there have been numerous awareness campaigns, the average person still wasn’t aware. Women don’t discuss/talk about their bouts with heart disease.  Interestingly, they discuss breast cancer, but they don’t discuss heart disease.

Why?

Actually, after all of my years working with heart disease, I have a few answers but I would like to hear from some of you. What is it about a diagnosis of heart disease that does not prompt women to discuss it?

Everything I read about today’s young people- ages 25-45, the “Millennials” — fascinates me.

I am fascinated because their world  and the way they perceive it, is totally opposite from what my age group wanted out of life when I was that age.  According to a number articles that I have read recently, this group does not want to make long-term commitments.  “Renting” seems to be their preferred path forward.  They don’t want to own a home; they don’t want to own a car.   And, according to these articles, they are not much interested in marriage or parenting, either.

Comparing this approach to my own age group, the differences are startling:  I couldn’t wait to get married, have children, own my own home, have a nice car.   I hoped to have a long marriage, grow old with my partner and dote on my grandchildren.

What has changed in their goals and perspectives?   And why has it changed?

I understand that not all Millennials feel this way, but it does concern me.  And my concern is about the future of these young adults.  Primarily, who will be there for them when they may need the kind of unconditional commitment to help them through difficult times?  I have seen so many friends of mine who have been a primary support to their partner in times of illness.

What I see is the result of an investment that was made many years earlier and is now getting a return.

This kind of support cannot be rented.

My name is Irene Pollin.

It has been my name since May 27th, 1945, the date I married Abe Pollin.

Before that, my name was Irene Kerchek, but I have been Irene Pollin much longer.

However, something interesting has happened since my husband, Abe, died, in November, 2009; I am no longer referred to as Irene Pollin; I have become “Pollin Family.”

At first, I paid little attention to this odd designation, but as it has continued over the past few years, I have decided to remind people of who I really am, and have always been.

I haven’t been sure why this has occurred.

Is it male chauvinism?  No, because one of the people who did this was a professional woman who I work with.

Is it unfamiliarity? People that I haven’t known very long?  No, because several of the people who did this have known me for many years.

Well, why?

I can’t seem to come up with an answer, and I’m interested to see if other people have had a similar experience.

Even this past week, my friend and sports compatriot, Ted Leonsis, referred to me as “Pollin Family” in an interview. If he will check the legal documents I signed when I sold Washington Sports and Entertainment, he will only see one name….Irene Pollin.