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The Touch of Life – A Rugby Novel by Ike Andrews

There have been distinct moments in my life where I have been extraordinarily proud of my father. The first was in the 4th grade during a “what does your dad do for work” presentation where he turned a pedestrian career in the paper industry into an exciting exposition of international business, making me the envy of the classroom for having such a “cool” dad. The second was when he delivered the eulogy for his best friend Brian, honoring him and his Lord with his convicting message. And upon my re-reading of The Touch of Life, that feeling of pride swelled within me once again.

I was roughly five years younger than Professor Michael Burke the first time I read this book, an age where I was too occupied with partying and making skateboard videos to read a 500-page novel. Yet, despite my prodigal tendencies, remnants of God’s command to honor your parents still clung to me. So, I read on. And for a kid who found reading to be a chore up until that point in life, I genuinely enjoyed the read, much like a teenager’s first viewing of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. It was a surface-level enjoyment, where I laughed at the antics of Ripper, cringed at the weasel known as Jeff Sheonick, and was on the edge of my seat during its climactic finale.

And to this day, I can still remember the night I finished the book. I was glued to the final chapters, unable to sleep until I discovered the fate of the Select Side rugby players. This of course, became problematic, since I was slated to wake up at 5 AM for a full day of salmon fishing with my father and some friends from church. On paper, it’s an experience any man would be grateful for, but for a 21-year-old college student on Christmas break, I wasn’t exactly enthused for the outing, nor for the eight hours spent in the middle of the Snake River freezing my butt off.

I actually caught one during one of those trips!

Despite the dread of an early morning fishing trip, I put down the book that night satisfied that I had just read a well-written thriller that any connoisseur of fiction would be proud of. But even though I would go on to recommend it to others, I still lacked the maturity to understand the deeper themes presented. And similar to the Lord of the Rings, it would take half a lifetime to truly appreciated the emotional and spiritual depth of this book.

When my father approached me with the idea of re-releasing The Touch of Life (now that eBooks have made reading more accessible), I happily obliged. Feeling that I owed him a favor after he graciously proofread my own novel, I also knew it would be a good exercise for someone who had just started his own publishing company. What I didn’t expect is how much more I would enjoy reading it the second time.

Now, being the approximate age of my father during the time he wrote this, the story hits from an entirely different angle. It astonished me how well my father captured the zeitgeist of not just Wisconsin in the late 1970s, but of being a young man navigating the path into adulthood. From the very first chapter, I felt like I had been there, a stranger in a strange land, finding routine and contentment with the little you have. I could relate to the feels and struggles of the professor, and even found joy in the simple details of his surroundings, from the scent of freshly mowed grass to the peaceful ambience that encompasses a college campus after students have left for the summer. Though the settings may differ, it’s during these transition periods that lead us into wonder, longing for change, yet clinging to that last vestige of an adolescent spirit. It’s what led the professor to the sport of rugby, and strangely enough, it’s activities like rugby—molding the physicality of youth into the courage of manhood—that best propel us into the throws of the real world.

Fox River Rugby Club, where much of the book was inspired from, Circa 1980.

There’s brutal honesty portrayed in every facet of the story, a quality that’s often missing in modern writing, especially given the superficial culture promoted through social media. The foul-mouthed, beer-guzzling antics of rugby culture, though humorous at times, will make many wince. Graphically depicted are the carnal desires of sex, not for titillation, but as a reminder that the temptation is real in every man, and in a day and age where pornography is accessible at our fingertips, it’s a sin that is too-often ignored in fear of self-implication. “The Rape of the Planet” reminds us that there is unabashed evil in our world. Yet it’s evil that all good men must eventually confront, for evil has a way of metastasizing if left unabated.

And that’s the risk of honest writing. It exposes our own sins, insecurities, and weaknesses, and can give wicked men ammunition to tear you and others like you down. But, in doing so, there is also the potential for great reward. It shows the most depraved among us that there is salvation, no matter how much of a misfit they are on and off the field. That like them, we are severely flawed, but if we accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior, He has a way of destroying those demons and promoting the good within us; qualities like loyalty, determination, and most of all, courage that are developed on the rugby field.

And that’s what I find most admirable about this story; the courage my father displayed in writing it. In exposing his own vulnerabilities, he reminds us that like rugby, life can be quite muddy. It’s filled with messy situations, violent encounters, and requires decisions where morality is often muddled. And after a long-fought match, win or lose, we often come away better equipped to face the next, having persevered through the very end. And whether it’s between teammates, opponents, or even enemies on a battlefield, there is great honor that is shared amongst men in these environments.

I believe there’s a providential connection between the passage of time and the re-release of this book, for perhaps the greatest endorsement I can give is by the time I got to the last page, I had shed a tear. Like those characters in the epilogue, I’m wiser, married with kids, and have had time to reflect on the many trials of life. And despite the pain felt during many of those trials, the second reading truly made me grateful for those life experiences, and God willing, for a life that has several years left.

Nobody but my old man and the Lord will fully understand the amount of time, heart, and sacrifice that was put into writing this book. The unfortunate reality for most writers is that the fruits of their labor will never be fully realized. And having written a novel myself, I can sense his passion for this story, paying homage to the game of rugby and the teammates he met along the way. In doing so, he has brought honor, not just to them, but to his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

If you are among the few who have stumbled across this gem, consider yourself blessed. You are in for an exciting adventure. You are about to dive into the rough and gruff world of rugby. You are about to see how the Holy Spirit can rebuild the most broken among us. And for that, I am honored to share this book with you.

Zachary Michael Andrews
Grizzly Chadams Publishing

The Touch of Life is available now on amazon.com. If this post spoke to you in anyway or if you know anybody who would enjoy a sports thriller based around rugby, please consider supporting us independent authors by purchasing a copy using the link below:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H2PVQN5N

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Project Hail Mary: The Perfect Movie for the Easter Season

Warning: Spoilers ahead.

I reached a major milestone in my dad status this week: my son and I went to our first movie together, “Project Hail Mary.”

And it turns out, 5-year-olds are much smarter than we give them credit for.

It was a risk taking him to a sci-fi thriller, knowing there would be some tense scenes in there, but I was impressed with how well he was able to stay focused through the slower parts, understand the basic themes of the movie, and how he really grew to love both Grace and Rocky, the human/alien duo who meet and establish a strong friendship.

“So, it sounds like the risk paid off,” you say. Well, yes, but not without a few hurdles along the way…

He got attached to Rocky. I mean, really attached. And when it looked like Rocky wasn’t going to make it, it was just too much for one little guy to bear. He began rubbing his eyes, then started taking deep breaths, trying to keep it together in a room full of strangers. I wrapped my arms around him to let him know it was going to be all right, but as he climbed up on my lap and buried his face into my chest with tears filling his eyes, he uttered phrase in between sobs that was almost became too much for me to bear.

“Dad, can we go home now? Please…”

He knew that Rocky was likely a goner, and being wise beyond his years, his instincts were correct. He didn’t need to be there to see it, didn’t need the pain to fester by watching him in that comatose state. But as I held him in my arms at that moment, a simple phrase came into my head. “Have faith,” I whispered to him. “…Have faith.”

A few moments later, Rocky’s hand started to move, signaling to Grace that indeed, his friend was alive and well. “Look,” I said to my son with as much excitement as I could express in a silent movie theater. He turned his head, and to his relief, there Rocky was, moving, talking… interacting.

Rocky had risen.

For anybody who has watched a few movies in their day and has a basic understanding of story structure, you can recognize the “all hope is lost” plot point, when things look like they’re over, only for our hero to miraculously come back to life/save the day/finally bag the babe and find true love. But I can’t blame my little dude for reacting the way he did, for it wasn’t too long ago where I found myself rubbing my eyes in the theater during “Homeward Bound,” believing Shadow was never going to climb out of the muddy ditch at the end.

Geez, that scene still tears me apart to this day!

But as we walked home that afternoon, I couldn’t help but think of how the disciples felt after Jesus was buried in the tomb. It’s said that John was the only one of them who witnessed His crucifixion, for the rest of them, much like my son, couldn’t bear to see their Lord suffer and die. But unlike my son, they were full-grown men. And in the midst of despair, they too had lost faith.

Faith. It’s a concept that should be easy, yet when pressed, it easily crumbles. Just think when Peter walks on water to meet Jesus but quickly sinks, to which Jesus responds, “What little faith you have.” And if I were standing in Peter’s place that day, I don’t think I would’ve fared any better.

The good news is, we have several examples of how faith comes through. David when he slayed Goliath, Daneil in the lion’s den, and most notably when Jesus showed faith by obeying his Father with the words “Thy will be done.” And in the ultimate show of love, He willingly gave up His life to save us all from our sin.

Then, three days later, he rose from the grave.

Some of the greatest stories have elements of the greatest story of all time, which is why I think my son, and many others like him have resonated with Project Hail Mary so much. Aside from the fact that it’s free of foul language and explicit content (which actually is a big deal for me these days), it has elements of what’s good, true and beautiful in life. How love and sacrifice are some of the highest virtues. Why we hold in reverence those who make the ultimate sacrifices, for that is the highest form of love somebody can give. And like Rocky showed when he was willing to sacrifice his life, not just for his friend but for both his and Grace’s planets, it’s a replication of the love that Jesus showed 2000 years ago on the cross, a love that none of us deserved but received regardless… which is why they call it love.

So, if you need a great pick me up, or if you’re in need of a good activity to do with the family this Easter weekend, I would highly recommend seeing Project Hail Mary. And if you’re a dad trying to find a way to relate the Easter story to your son, it’s the perfect complement to the season.

If you enjoyed this post and want to support my work, please check out some of my other work available on Amazon.com.

And if you like what you see, please leave a review!

-Zack

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All-American Halftime Show Challenge: Let’s Transform More Kid Rocks into Robert Ritchies

From the buzz I’m seeing on Facebook and other social media sites, it seems that the All-American Halftime Show that Turning Point USA put on was effective. And I, for one, am happy, since it seems like the NFL is becoming less interested in representing people like me, so I hope Turning Point can continue to build off this.

But beyond just the entertainment value was something personal to me, and that was the transformation of Kid Rock.

I was a huge fan of Kid Rock my freshman year of high school. From a young adolescence in the thrusts of puberty, his foul-mouthed, hard-hitting style of rock and roll spoke directly to the rush of testosterone suddenly flooding my body. That wasn’t, of course, without great risk for a teenage boy.

Not only did his album include derogatory lyrics, but the album title alone of his first major release “Devil Without a Cause” provided enough caution for any Christian parents. And just to add an extra level of flair, as soon as you opened the case, the CD itself displayed a giant middle finger (in case you didn’t get the message). Needless to say, my fanaticism for Kid Rock was kept on the downlow to prevent a hard lecture and potential butt whippin’ from my mom.

Not to Mention the PARENTAL ADVISORY Sticker!!!

Fast forward almost 30 years (hard to believe it was that long ago), and seeing him play the title track to that album “Bawitdaba” made me wince a bit at first. And for a moment, I really thought that he and the team at Turning Point really missed the mark.

Then, he did something that surprised me.

After a string instrument interlude, he was reintroduced, not as Kid Rock, but by his real name, Robert Ritchie. He stripped away his old attire to something much more humble, and instead of singing about “the midnight glances at the topless dancers,” he gave a much more uplifting message. And it was during that song, where he took a moment to proclaim the gospel.

The more I think about this, I believe the song selections (and even the choice to lip sync the first song, given some of the lip-syncing controversies that float around with live performances) were intentional. And in a strange way, they were touching, for it reflected some of the transformation that I’ve seen in my life. Now, I was nowhere near the level that Kid Rock experienced, from his walkout at Woodstock 99 in a pimp’s coat to his hard partying and dating of some of the most beautiful women a man can get his hands on. But if I were in his position, would I be willing to resist some of those same temptations? Truth be told, I probably would’ve found myself indulging in some of the same excesses.

Yet, with his reintroduction as Robert Ritchie and his proclamation of the gospel, it was as if he was making a statement. “Here I am Lord, born again and ready to serve.” After all, new names have often been given by God and Jesus. Abram to Abraham, Jacob to Israel, Saul to Paul, Simon to Peter, and on and on.

Now that Robert has proclaimed the truth, will he completely shed his previous lifestyle and stay on the narrow road? I certainly hope so, and will pray that he does, for I believe his story going from the “devil without a cause” to unapologetically preaching the name of Jesus in front of 22 million plus people (I believe that was the final estimated number, and a conservative one at that) is a powerful one. It is a difficult road, however, and many in his space have stumbled (think Kanye), so I encourage others to pray for him as well (for he’ll certainly need all the help he can get).

But this now leaves a challenge to us believers. There are many Kid Rocks among us. Those who have indulged in sinful lifestyles, whether it be promiscuity, drunkenness, drug use, or been stuck in idolatrous behavior. There are probably many of those who are holding onto sin deep in their heart that is keeping them from accepting salvation. How will we minister to those? They may be foul-mouthed partiers, but they also, like Kid Rock, understand that there is a deeper truth. That they’re longing for change… that they’re longing for Christ.

Because though we may have cringed listening to his first song, that’s ok, because we weren’t his target audience. They were.

Transformation doesn’t come easy, and it often doesn’t happen overnight. And for those of us who grew up in a church culture who shunned this type of behavior, it will be quite uncomfortable (which is probably the point). But just like how Jesus met the lepers, tax collectors, prostitutes, and the most broken and misfit in society, we can step out of our comfort zones to welcome them into discipleship. There is a hunger amongst many of us sheep that have strayed from the flock, and if we allow it, the Holy Spirit will work through all of us to transform lives.

So let’s welcome in the Kid Rocks among us, and through the power of Christ, let’s turn them into Robert Ritchies.

If you enjoyed this blog, please consider supporting some of my other work. Waiting on Heaven’s Doorstep takes the same message of a broken young man and rebuilding him anew, and The Significance of a Birthday is a great birthday message (and gift) for all ages, emphasizing the miracle of life and how much you changed the world the day you entered it.

Thank you, and God bless.

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