Ok, I confess. Yes, I’m a ‘huge’ baseball fan. Before I begin to delve into my past, I have to share my first experience with a baseball. My father asked if I wanted to have a catch in the back yard. So, I picked up my brother’s glove and headed out to the back yard where my father anxiously waited. He proceeded to give me what felt like an hour rundown of the proper mechanics in throwing and catching. “Just throw the ball already.” I thought to myself. And, when the lecture was over, the ball sailed in the air. If only you could see what happened next. Smack! Would you believe it, the ball hit me square on the nose. I dropped my glove, ran into the house crying. One whole year went by before I picked up that ball and glove again.
My love for the game really began when I was eight years old. I was always, and still am a very competitive person. I was determined to catch the ball and throw it back to my father without his glove moving. To this day, when I have a catch with anyone, I always mix in that little drill. As the years past, and the little league seasons came and went, my family relocated up to Michigan. I entered the summer in my last year of little league. New friends, new baseball fields, and new teammates. With all of that change, one thing remained. The game of baseball. As a player, I still needed to hit, field, and throw. The school year came around, and the season ended. I played all the way through high school and never once was I bored with the game. Oh how I can remember my father telling me, “Son, there is going to come a point when you will miss this game, so it’s important to work hard now while you’re still able to play. But keep one thing in mind, always respect the game. Both as a player and a fan.” Years have passed since the last time I stepped on a field and played in a game.
Baseball changed me as a person. It taught me so many important life lessons. One of them is failure. Baseball has a way of humbling you. The professional players get paid millions of dollars to get a hit 3 out of 10 times. In life we can look at it almost the same way. Be humble. Be thankful for what you have. For the game of life, has a way of humbling us all. Now, as a father, I can not wait until I can have that catch with my daughter Cameryn. It’s a moment, I’m anxiously waiting for. Hopefully, she’ll catch the first ball thrown, and not have the same experience I did. In the mean time, my wife and I will take her to the ball park to enjoy America’s favorite past time.
The other day, I was in my basement and moved some things around. I came across my old ball glove. I Picked it up, and I could still smell the field and the oil on the glove. Oh how I miss this game…