As the movie 42 swept the nation, even I made the effort to go see it. Granted, I did have a free movie pass, so that only further motivated the hopelessly frugal side of me. I had been thinking a lot about the American game in the past months before I saw Chadwick Boseman's fabulous bat at Jackie Robinson's character. Boseman hit it home. This would be a good time to warn my reader of the terrible baseball analogies to come throughout this post. However, if you are in a cheesy mood, you're in the right place.
My cousins are a baseball family, six boys and one girl, with a total count of nine teammates. Recently, my sister and I have been to a couple of the boys' games at Long Beach State and Orange Coast College. Let me tell you, sometimes it takes someone close to heart to understand something otherwise you would never really appreciate: baseball.
What caught my attention was the silent moment before the pitch. Filled with tension and the unknown, the pitcher and catcher subtly communicate with funky signs and hand motions. On the mound after shaking off a pitch a few times, the pitcher and catcher come to agreement and decide on what is to come. Then, the tension before the pitch sets in: stomping feet like a bull, slyly checking on the runners, and winding up with one knee to the sky. In scientific terms, the potential energy peaks at this moment.
As I see it, baseball is a game of patiently waiting for action, quick decisions when the action comes, and then assuming the position of patience yet again. From what I remember of my first and only(laughable) season playing softball in 8th grade, staying in the game was all mental. It could drive you mental, too, if you didn't play it right.
That being said, the other day my dad made an analogy to baseball and the game of life sitting with his aging dad. It was a few weeks ago when we were visiting our grandparents in Florida at their senior living center, a relatively new situation for the couple. Grandpa Palmer, an 89-year-old WWII Purple Heart Veteran and former Chicago cop is a tough guy and is used to keeping busy. Now, he has a grumpy old man attitude about selling the house and living in this new place. I can't blame him- they take care of everything for him so he is left with nothing to do.
After a few days of visiting with my lovely grandparents, my dad's baseball analogy came out of left field while conversing with Grandpa the night before our departure. It went something like this: "You know Dad, some may think of life as a baseball game; that last pitch can be just as important as the first, the game winner even. The last inning could change everything." Grandpa kind of grumbled over the point, saying something about counting his blessings, and moving on to the topic of organizing his investments before his passing. But the message struck home for me.
The message I heard was that of making progress in every pitch, before every play, after every error, and through all the tense moments. Making progress we play the American game every day up to our last, awaiting moments of action and appreciating the tension in the silence. How is that for some cheesy food for thought? I believe Jackie Robinson would agree that each moment matters, for a homerun is just a pitch away.
My cousins are a baseball family, six boys and one girl, with a total count of nine teammates. Recently, my sister and I have been to a couple of the boys' games at Long Beach State and Orange Coast College. Let me tell you, sometimes it takes someone close to heart to understand something otherwise you would never really appreciate: baseball.
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| Long Beach State game |
As I see it, baseball is a game of patiently waiting for action, quick decisions when the action comes, and then assuming the position of patience yet again. From what I remember of my first and only(laughable) season playing softball in 8th grade, staying in the game was all mental. It could drive you mental, too, if you didn't play it right.
That being said, the other day my dad made an analogy to baseball and the game of life sitting with his aging dad. It was a few weeks ago when we were visiting our grandparents in Florida at their senior living center, a relatively new situation for the couple. Grandpa Palmer, an 89-year-old WWII Purple Heart Veteran and former Chicago cop is a tough guy and is used to keeping busy. Now, he has a grumpy old man attitude about selling the house and living in this new place. I can't blame him- they take care of everything for him so he is left with nothing to do.
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| Grandpa Palmer and son on the Gulf |
The message I heard was that of making progress in every pitch, before every play, after every error, and through all the tense moments. Making progress we play the American game every day up to our last, awaiting moments of action and appreciating the tension in the silence. How is that for some cheesy food for thought? I believe Jackie Robinson would agree that each moment matters, for a homerun is just a pitch away.
