The title today brought to you by the song "Centerfield" by John Fogerty...
Baseball.... What is it about baseball that has captured the hearts of millions of little boys since it's creation? What is it about hitting a small ball with a bat that keeps us coming back for more? What is it about a game where you fail more than succeed that appeals to people young and old? Where failing 70% of the time is considered great? What is it about this game that no matter whether you're 7 or 70 when you watch it, you forget how old you are and you feel that love for the game and want to play again. You want to feel the sun on your face as you squint into the blue sky, to smell the freshly cut grass... There's something about this game, something magical, something sacred, something of a fountain of youth for those who love this game with a passion. I will attempt to give you my perspective on it..
The sun came out today!
We're born again, there's new grass on the field.
A-roundin' third, and headed for home, it's a brown-eyed handsome man;
Anyone can understand the way I feel.
Sadly, not just anyone can understand the way I feel. It floors me to hear people say baseball is boring, baseball is too slow and that they don't know how I can just sit for hours and hours watching it. It's simple...
It's baseball....
My love for baseball started when I was probably 4 or 5 years old. It started with my dad and my grandpa who would take me out into the backyard and play catch with me. They would throw batting practice to me. They truly made the game special for me. They would take time out of their days and take me to ball fields and hit grounders to me, throw me batting practice, or in my grandpa's case he would squat and let me throw hundreds of pitches to him without the benefit of protective gear... THAT is what initially made baseball special to me. It gave me time with those two. My dad after working third shift and getting some sleep would get up and go out into the backyard with me and just hit me fly ball after fly ball for what seemed like hours and probably was. The whole time we're talking baseball. We're talking the Tigers and what they are doing and who my favorite players are and who his were. The whole time I'm becoming a baseball Rain Man.. To this day I can recall stats that I have no business remembering. I can tell you what Tiger did what in 1984, I can recall vividly the games I've attended, who homered, what the scores where and how they got them. And it all goes back to the backyard and my dad. Then we'd switch and I'd hit him fly balls.. The whole time I chalked it up to letting him have some fun in the field. But in retrospect he asked me to hit him some to work on hand-eye coordination and keeping my eye on the ball.. Smart man... Disguising work and practice as fun.. I grew so obsessed with that time in the back yard that I would try to hit "home runs" which was hitting them over my dad's head.. I kept a notebook and by the day charted how many "homers" I hit. I taped this to my bedroom door proudly. To me my dad could've been an outfielder for the Tigers.. There wasn't anything the man couldn't run down. So when I started clearing his head to me that meant something. They were both always encouraging, never discouraging. Something that stays with me to this day. Whenever I made a mistake in the field during a game, or swung at a bad pitch a negative word was never said. Instead, it was replaced by questions. What could you have done differently? How could you have played that bounce? Was that pitch in the strike zone or low/high? That way instead of coming down on me, or handling it with anger. It was spun into making me think about it and realizing what or where I had gone wrong so that next time I would correct it.
As I grew older my love for the game grew. At times it was almost unhealthy how much I loved baseball. Putting it before academics, before chores, before a lot of things that it should've taken a backseat to... But I love the game...
My first crushing blow came when I was 13 years old. I tried out for the traveling Sandy Koufax team. I had just had a pretty good season the prior year of Little League hitting my first few home runs and pitching well. I went into tryouts thinking it was a sure thing. And I played well. I hit well, I didn't pitch great but played third well enough in my 13 year old thinking to make it. Coach calls me 2 days later and tells me he's decided to keep a few older kids to give them a chance to play in the summer, whereas I would have the chance to play Little League one more season and they wouldn't have anywhere to play. Otherwise he said he would've kept me. I was devastated... I couldn't face going back to Little League again. I got a call a few days later from Coach Bump asking if I'd be interested in playing for him. I couldn't pitch due to the fact I was 13 but I'd play 3rd for him. It took me some time to get over being cut but once back on the field it turned into baseball and I settled in. Hitting a few more home runs that season. The whole time throwing with my dad and grandpa to keep pitching in some form.
My next year was Koufax and I did well. I hit .450 with 1 home run and 24 RBI and went 2-2 as a pitcher. But it was my first experience traveling to play ball and I loved it.. It added a whole new element to the game. Seeing other teams fields, playing against other players I didn't know. It was great. I played my first game on a grass infield as well.. We finished the season 6-9 but it was one of the most fun seasons I've played.
I missed my Freshman year due to a torn rotator cuff. I tore it during our version of spring training. We were working on pick off moves and when we weren't on the mound we'd go to first and act as runners and also practice our dive backs. Well, the first 3 dives back into the bag went fine. The fourth I must've dove late and jammed my right shoulder back. It felt like someone had stabbed me with a knife in the shoulder. I couldn't raise it above chest level. A trip to the surgeon confirmed I had torn it and needed surgery which meant I was done for the season. I'd be lying to you if I said I didn't cry when I found that out. That would be the first of 2 surgeries on my throwing shoulder in high school.
My sophomore year was a good one for me. We had just moved into the newly formed Southern Michigan Athletic Association and played in a tournament at C.O. Brown Stadium in Battle Creek where the Battle Cats played. Playing in a minor league stadium was pretty sweet. We ended up going undefeated that season in the league going 8-0 and something like 13-5 overall. I hit .392 with 20 RBI. I went 2-0 pitching with a 2.57 era and 2 saves. I practiced some with Varsity in the spring which was fun and threw against some of their pitchers.
My Junior year was a roller coaster of a year. I pitched sporadically in relief and started a game or two. And was hitting very well until a game against Dansville about half way through the season. I got caught in a rundown between second and third, I managed to get back to second and dove for the bag only to have an exact replay of my freshman season happen again. Only this time I dislocated my throwing shoulder. I have never experienced pain like that before in my life. It was a grade 2-3 separation. It wouldn't go back in on it's own. So my arm was locked almost out the side. They took me to the hospital where the doctor gave me some serious pain meds that put me on cloud nine. They had me prepped for surgery if the dislocation was severe enough. They took off my jersey and cut away my lucky undershirt. They took the undershirt and wrapped one end around my arm, tucked it underneath my body and out the other side where the other doctor grabbed it. The first doctor put one hand on top of the other like he was going to do chest compressions and put it on my shoulder. He looked up and says to Dr.#2 "you know what to do." He says "yeah, let's go". He looks at me and says "I'm gonna count to three and you may feel some discomfort." 1......2... and on two Dr #1 pushes down on my shoulder with all he has and Dr #2 yanks the shirt he's holding toward him. There is this loud audible pop and my shoulder is back in place... Awesome thing is that it didn't hurt one bit thanks to the drugs. But they were concerned at how easy it went back in. They told me no throwing for 6 weeks... 8 days later I was on the mound pitching against Maple Valley. I ended up hitting .462 with 15 rbi that season. Pitching was horrible I was 0-2 with a 5.78 era. Needless to say I ended up having surgery at the end of the season to stabilize my shoulder and repair it. It was a new at the time laser procedure where they used the laser to shrink the muscle around the ball and socket to gain stability. I was the 2nd in the state to have it done. The first was a kid 30 minutes before me that I had pitched against from Webberville. I thought that was kind of neat.
My senior season was a good one. The coach and I got into it a few times over a decision I had made to miss a game to go to a game with my dad and grandpa. He benched me for 3 games and I didn't forgive him for that. I ended up hitting .354 with 22 rbi. I pitched extremely well despite not getting any support or defense. I was 0-2 with a 2.30 era. My last high school game I played may have been my best pitching. I wanted the coach to start me in the district game against Bellevue. He decided to go with a Junior. He gave up 6 runs in the first 2 innings. We were down 6-1. After the inning he tells me to go to the pen and get warm. I come part way through the 2nd and pitch 5 innings, struck out 9, didn't walk anyone, didn't hit anyone, gave up 1 hit. We ended up losing 6-4. I remember after the game the coach came by and gave me a pat on the leg and said "I shoulda started ya." I didn't ride back with the team that day. I remember crying on the way home thinking my days of playing were over. I had been recruited by 9 small schools to play. The biggest being Tri-State and Butler. Others being Olivet, Adrian, Hope, Alma, Kalamazoo, Cornerstone, and Aquinas College. The only one to offer me a "scholarship was Adrian. And being a D3 school they can't offer you a scholarship for sports so it's toward your major if I remember that right. But it was for $3500 a year. They wanted me to pitch some and play third mostly. I was throwing around 87mph and he thought with some work and fine tuning I could reach 90-91mph. But I would immediately be placed on academic probation due to my grades in HS. My mom shot down the idea immediately. 11k was a lot of money. And my dad kept telling me there is more to life than baseball... So I had to tell the coach I wouldn't be coming to Adrian. It killed me. I had the opportunity to continue playing and was not allowed.
Needless to say I was bitter. I did end up playing at LCC when it was a club team and at Great Lakes Christian but the team never got off the ground. I've played in the Lansing City League a few times and I continue playing softball now. I have vowed to myself that if any of my boys get the opportunity that I had I will not deny them the opportunity to pursue it. Don't get me wrong. Had I went and played I may not have met Jill and had Caleb, Josh and Jonah. So things worked out just fine. Just for 18 yr old me it was like the world had ended.
Sorry for the rambling... I love baseball... I love everything about it.. From standing on the mound facing a batter. Trying to figure out how to beat him. Being the one who controls the game from the mound. It's like a chess match. Throw inside, throw outside, keep it up in the zone, down and away, fastball, slider, change up.. There are so many mental aspects to a batter/ pitcher match up it's mind boggling. You remember what they did the first time through the lineup and use that against them the 2nd time around.. As a hitter do you go up looking for the first fastball to hit? Do you take the first pitch? Can you hit the curve if he throws it? Or do you mostly sit on a fastball? Do you go with the pitch to right field? Do you try to hit it to the opposite side of the infield to advance the runner? Do you take on a 3-0 count or wait for that fastball you know he's got to throw you and pray you make good contact? THAT is what I love about this game is that it's a team sport that you can directly effect. I loved being that guy at the plate with 2 outs and runners on. I wanted to be that guy. I loved being on the mound and having the outcome of the game dictated on how I pitched. I loved knowing the coach trusted me enough with the ball to be in that position. It sounds cocky but it's not it's that I love it and everything about it.
But it's so much deeper than that. It's being in the locker room, seeing your jersey hanging there. Pulling it on for the first time in a season. Hearing your metal cleats clacking on the pavement as you walk to the field. It's smelling the freshly cut grass and how green it looks under that crystal clear blue spring sky.. It's seeing the freshly chalked batters box and baselines and carefully stepping over them partially out of not wanting to mess them up and partially out of superstition that messing them up is bad luck. It's holding your glove to your face between pitches and smelling the leather. It's the feel of the dirt/clay beneath your feet. It's the feel of the sun on your face as you track a pop up in that same crystal clear blue sky. The feel of the ball settling gently into your glove as you catch it. It's the pop of the glove as you throw to first to get the runner by a half step.. It's the unique crack of the bat as you take batting practice on an empty field and the way it resonates. It's that special connection you have with your catcher as you both work to defeat the hitter, the unspoken line of communication, the signals, him knowing what pitches are working for you and what aren't, and the celebratory fist pump when you manage to defeat the hitter. It's hearing people yelling for you as you strike someone out or make a good play on a grounder or line one back up the middle... It's the coach patting you on the back and reliving some of the moments with you of that game.. It's the camaraderie with the team, knowing that they have your back and will do whatever they have to for you, and that they know you have theirs in return...
Baseball is a great life lesson for anyone to experience.. You learn the definition of team. You learn to be at teammate. You learn competition, you learn the joy of winning and the pain of defeat. You learn what it means to be a good sport even if you don't want to. My coach in High School sat me down my sophomore year and told me to not get discouraged and that if I learned the 3 C's of baseball I would be just fine. Those 3 C's are Courage, Confidence, and Control.. The courage to go out there and do the very best I could and leave it all on the field.... To have the confidence in my abilities and in my teammates to do the best they can for the team... And to control my emotions, my reactions, my temper in any situation good or bad.. Act like you've done it before is what he told me. Don't celebrate to high or get too low. There will always be a tomorrow. But these 3 C's have carried over with me into my life outside baseball.. You have to have the courage to go after what you want out of life, you have to have the confidence in yourself and your abilities to accomplish what it is you set out to do, and to control your emotions and temper in the process... And to think.. This valuable life lesson started with just myself, my dad, my grandpa, a ball, bat and glove.. And baseball is boring and pointless? I don't think so...
Baseball has helped shape me into who I am today... I will never push my sons to play. And if they never become obsessed with baseball the way I was that's ok too. I have to learn that they're not me and I can't make them love the game. But, if one of them catches the baseball bug.. You better believe I'm going to be right there with them the way my dad and grandpa were. The only question I've ever wondered was what it was like for them to watch me after all the time they invested in me? Did I make them proud? Was I a good enough ballplayer? Was the fact I was recruited to play enough? Are they disappointed in me that I didn't make it all the way?
Baseball.... Just to hit the ball and touch 'em all - a moment in the sun;
(pop) It's gone and you can tell that one goodbye!
Until next time... Only 12 more days until Spring Training...
Be Well,
Rob
