A rabbit’s ears are astonishingly sensitive. Hearing is perhaps the primary way a rabbit experiences the world. The large, upright ears of our rabbit friends found their way to an awkward, metallic reproduction as antennas attached to early television sets. Television rabbit ears, however, were not exactly sensitive and will be forever remembered by the assisted living crowd as synonymous with phantom black and white images and awful sound reproduction.
In my early basketball playing days, I was accused of having “rabbit ears.” This was not a reference to size but to acuity. I now realize that when an athlete “has rabbit ears” the condition is always selective; that is, one hears only the cries of derision. You bum!” “My10 year old would kick your ass!” I could also occasionally hear “great shot,” “fantastic,” “way to go.” I think that was called responding to the crowd.
I knew great ballplayers, the likes of Wilt Chamberlain or Bill Russell, who tuned it all out and played to that inner voice that spoke only to the game; the next shot, rebound, or block. It is incredible how the power of concentration filters out the extraneous and allows those wonderful athletes to hear and even see only that which is required for a great performance.
Me? I still hear: “the worst article I ever read” and “that was brilliant.” Ole’, rabbit ears lives!