Why I Love Baseball, Part I

I remember my first exposure to baseball. I was eight years old and, at that time, the only thing that had my interest was drawing--no sports whatsoever. Sports of any type were unknown to me. One evening I was watching TV with my dad. Since remote controls were non-existent in those days my job was to push the channel buttons on the set as my dad prompted from his chair. So I pushed the buttons that night, up and down the channel line-up hoping I would be prompted to land on something good. As I was flipping, my curiosity spiked when the picture rotation briefly stopped on a baseball game. Of course, I did not watch long as I was prompted to change the channel. After previewing all that cable had to offer that night, Dad declared there was "nothing on." Realizing an opportunity to go back to the game I asked if I could watch. He approved my request and together we watched. My only memory of the game itself is of a tall, lanky outfielder-number "3", hitting a home run. I was confused at first because it seemed to me futile to hit a ball so far that the other players were not able to participate. As the TV camera captured the fans excitement I quickly realized that something "good" had just happened. Number "3" was Dale Murphy and he became my childhood hero.
I love baseball because it reminds me of how great it is to be a kid. I remember those days and how much fun I had playing and following the game. Waiting for baseball season, winter crept along; passing much too slow. My addiction to baseball made the summer pass much too fast. Life was simple then, just school and baseball.

I love baseball because it is a link to my father. There were those games of catch and ground ball practice after he came home from work and on weekends. There was also the talk he gave about not quitting and finishing what you start. In his mind, I am a major leaguer. As he and Mom were the only ones who believed in me as I pursued my dream of playing professionally. It was their dream too.

I love baseball because of what the game has taught me. Out on that diamond I learned how to be a team player by focusing on my specific role. I discovered what it meant to work hard and prepare, improving my skills as a result. I learned how to set goals, persevering when achievement seemed unlikely. I understood that winning is no accident and that talent does not guarantee success. I realized that learning to be a leader meant first learning to be lead. Baseball has been a great teacher and currently is a great reminder of those lessons. Gone are the days of my childhood and life is much harder now, but the lessons taught by baseball have been foundational and truly important.

There are 147 days until opening day! What am I going to do until then?