The other week, my brother-in-law called and asked me if I wanted to go to a Bulls game. Kind of unusual, I remembered thinking as he doesn’t have season tickets or even a history of splurging occasionally on seats from a ticket broker or event website.

“My banker gave me two seats for Monday’s game,” he went on. “They’re on the first level and should be pretty good.”

Any type of tickets to a game involving a team I root for would be accepted as good fortune. Free tickets constitute an even bigger boon. A seat this close to the action — a perspective from which I’ve never seen a game before — well, it’s hard to describe how elated and lucky I felt.

Even knowing that I would have to wear a special lanyard so security would recognize I belonged in the section and knowing that waitresses came to the section during the game to deliver food and drink orders, I was not prepared for how privileged I felt. I couldn’t have imagined the view.

Better than just being on the first level in a stadium that seats over 18,000, it turned out that the seats were in the second row right behind the Bulls bench.

As they warmed up, the players jumped rope and practiced spotting up for shots from a shorter distance than between my kitchen and living room windows. I found myself smiling during time-outs as I felt like I was practically in the huddle with them as plays were drawn up.

My favorite player, Jimmy Butler, team workhorse and rising star, sat maybe 12’ away – when he actually was given a breather. I was close enough to hand Pau Gasol, all seven feet of him, Gatorade labeled towels from a well-stocked bin. It was probably the only thing closer to the team than I was.

I wanted to stand up during the whole game and take pictures or simply bask in the thrill of being where I was. Then, I’d start to worry about disrupting the view of the fans behind me, not to mention spilling my margarita which was parked in a plastic tumbler near my feet.

Wow! And I couldn’t believe how much faster things seemed to move from such a vantage point. It gave me a greater respect for the athletes, for their hand-eye coordination, for their conditioning, for practically communicating to each other telepathically.

Teammates had very short windows to dish off the ball before a passing lane closed up. I noticed hand checking that went on constantly and players being very physical with their guarding assignment all the time, not just on called fouls.

From this vantage point, I could also see how truly nice of a person center Joakim Noah is (he indulged a pack of thirteen year old girls and posed with each of them as they took selfies on their pink I-phones). I could see how much players wanted to rush off the floor after the game so they didn’t have to answer a reporter’s questions when they were too tired to talk.

This spectacular seat was a great gift that afforded me a new perspective on the game. It was also a great reminder that I am always close to the action.

I am always close to the action of my life, to whatever is happening around me at any given moment. Sometimes, a new experience or looking at something from a different angle might jog things up so I can take in things I don’t normally pay attention to. I might not get to sit in the second row at the United Center again, but I can always remember to pay attention to what’s happening around me.

Remembering that you’re always close to the action (of your life) is no small thing