Thoughts about Baseball

I just got back from watching one of my friend’s/elder’s son play baseball.  It was a pleasure, simply a pleasure.  I don’t know if it is call Little League anymore and frankly I don’t care.  What I watched was young men who are not sure they are men yet play a game that requires so many qualities that men should have.  I watched them take risks when they stole the base (o k, not a huge risk since the catchers can’t throw real hard to threaten them quite yet, that will be next year). I watched my friend’s son man up and face batter after batter as the pitcher.  He doesn’t know it, but it was just one more little layer of manhood painted over him.  I watched the young guys cheer guys who got a good pop on the ball but still got thrown out and realized these were men praising the effort even if the result was not what was desired.

I watched families come together.  Moms talking, kids playing catch and doodling in the dust. And in all of this I just smiled a lot to myself. I remembered playing baseball at their age.  Eating snow cones afterward.  Telling my war stories like they actually meant something.  It was a good time for me.  It was a good game to watch (our team won in the final inning). But even if they had lost it would have been still good.

Why post this?  Who knows and really who cares.

About Matt Henry

Middle-aged pastor trying to figure out how to be missional in his world. Loves his wife, his children, and his dog Bear. I have a love of woodworking even though woodworking doesn't always love me. The name is xagete but is pronounced exegete.

Posted on May 14, 2012, in What Tickles My Fancy and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Well, I can relate. Baseball is the great American game, especially sandlot. Oh, the memories.

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