In sport, what is the ball, really? It's an object that people kick, or throw, or flick to each other, sure, something that's put through, on, or out of something else to gain points and keep score. The ball is central to the structure of the game. It forms and informs the arena of play, as well as the relationships between players on the field, the pitch, the ice, or wherever they are.
But what does the ‘ball’ stand for? What is the ball as sport’s central metaphor? Betting and team loyalty aside, what does our excitement or disappointment in seeing the ball’s progress or retreat on the field of play tell us about its value as a representation, a synecdoche, of the greater world from which the game originates?
At face value, the ball is potential victory, avoidance of loss. Our team won or lost because of what they did (or didn’t do) with the ball. We are the champions.
But the ball also carries hope, an expectation that it will be used with skill and flair and within the rules of play. Judicially, the ball is a kind of fisherman’s float, revealing the instant the ethical boundary of a sport is crossed.
In the philosophical sense, focusing on the ball is an exercise in mindfulness, a kind of secular meditation, submitting to a process over which you have no real control.
In all of this, rugby is perhaps the most allegorical of the ball sports because you must pass the ball backwards and sideways to move forward. In life, that feels about right.