Sunday, June 21, 2009

A Lesson From Dad: Always Finish What You Start




I was only nine years old when I started playing baseball, but at nine had fallen behind in terms of experience and skills. My peers had already completed one or two seasons prior to advancing on to Little League where live pitching from a coach was graduated in favor of the reliable wildness of developing pitchers of nine, ten, and eleven. It was quite an experience for me to play a team sport that I had only seen on television. My abilities were limited to playing catch with my dad and casual batting practice with the long, lean, plastic lumber named ‘Whiffle’. So to say I struggled in my rookie season is an understatement. I was the only player on my team without previous organized playing time.

Attempting to learn the game while keeping up with my teammates, I remember distinctly one particular practice. In fact, I will never forget that day because it was when all my frustrations came to a boil. This particular day was a turning point in which I give my dad all the credit.

The best player on our team was the coach’s son and, of course, this teammate received more attention and ‘coaching’ than the rest of us. It first occurred to me that not all the guys were equal when Coach and his son got into a heated argument during infield drills. The shouting and pointing subsided when our shortstop walked off the field. I was bothered by the tension I was now aware of because for me this experience of baseball was about having fun. It was enough that I was unskilled trying to make the best of my inexperience but to witness a father berate his son about a game and for the son to respond with such disrespect in return was too much for me to manage.

Afterward, while riding home in the passenger seat of the car, Dad asked about practice. Distressed and not wanting to talk about it, I told him I wanted to quit. I don’t remember the details of the conversation but I know he understood my frustration. My dad made it plain in his response to my request to bail. Quitting was not an option. He told me that I had to finish out the season because that is what I committed myself to do by signing up to play. Dad said that if I didn’t want to play next season then fine, but to quit means I’m letting my teammates down who are counting on me, plus quitting doesn’t allow me the chance to even see if I could become a ballplayer. The lesson he taught me that day was to always finish what I start. Throughout the years, both in my childhood and now as an adult, I have reviewed that encounter with my dad and valued the lesson he taught.

Looking back and considering what might have been, I have enjoyed many years of fun and friendships that never would have happened had my dad not admonished me to finish what I had started. Ultimately, I played organized baseball for twelve seasons including at high school and college levels. I gained so much during these years, even beyond the fun and the memories. This story isn’t about baseball or even about me. This is about Dad and his wisdom to teach me a lesson about perseverance and commitment and his guidance to help me translate this lesson from the context of baseball to the experiences of my life. Thanks Dad and Happy Father’s Day!

1 comment:

Rebecca (Ramblings by Reba) said...

I, for one, am glad you played those 12 seasons. I'd never have met you or your beloved otherwise. :)