The Heart Behind the Game

I want to tell you about the hot, 4th of July weekend that I was blessed to travel with my dear friends, Nathan and Suzette and other great family members. This caravan of Boger City blue, had packed up the house, literally, to go see grandsons, Luke and Blake, play baseball in the state all-star championship in Lumberton, NC. Did I mention it was hot? 

Now, I'll be the first to tell you that I'm not a sports expert, as the rules and regulations tend to get lost on me. There is an aspect that I can easily recognize, though, and that is one, the true passion to play the game and two, the excitement, love, and sacrifice that sits behind the endless stretch of chain link fence.

I sat on that side of the fence this weekend, and did my part to cheer, yell, and occasionally bark and fist pump with each exciting play. None of my four children were on the team; I was just there to assist my friends as they took in priceless moments to treasure.

I've been the parent, though. I've been the one with 100 plus photos, mostly blurry action shots, of just my child. I've worn the team colors, sat through hot and cold, consoled losses, celebrated wins, and provided bushels of snacks and wells of Gatorade. I've been the one with my stomach in knots, wanting them to do their best, not to get embarrassed, want to quit, and certainly not to get hurt. Turns out, they did just fine, whether I got an ulcer or came close to cardiac arrest. They knew the game far better than their mama, and were quick to remind me that it's a lot different when you're the one playing. The perspective was much better from their position than it was from where I sat. Lesson learned for this mama.

For this tournament, something profound occurred to me as I stood with my face toward the flag waving high above the field, my heart covered in allegiance on our nation's birthday, and surrounded by some of the dearest people I have ever known. It was that this one beautiful life, is a lot like the game; it's ever-changing and goes from exhilarating to challenging in the length of an inning; its moments count and though imperfect, always, always benefit from grace, and if we're not watching closely, the whole thing will pass by us like the blur that trails behind a speed ball!

My heart also experienced, that the flow of energy at a game is as contagious as the common cold, whether you know who's up, who's out, or who's next. Energy is undeniable and that can be both positive or negative if we choose. 

I saw that boys, just a few years beyond learning to ride a bike or tie their shoes, had learned split second decision making to make the plays. In typical boy fashion, though, they could quickly return to the dugouts to poke holes and drink water from the bottom of styrofoam cups. They are so authentic and real. I love that!

It was great to see several grandparents proudly sporting the BCO blue in one form or another. I know personally that some had gone to great, make that enormous, lengths to capture this weekend's memories in person. Grandparents are those who've already put in countless hours to and from ball fields and time in the stands for their own children. They've logged many an hour while laying the foundation for sportsmanship and the love of the game. For this weekend and other ones like it, they are faithful to be there. God bless these greatest fans whose excitement for their players, isn't deterred by the score in the least. Such great wisdom.

After the game, I saw a mass of little athletes race with all of their might to their team sign, like they'd just finished playing The World Series! They sat together in a half-circle next to the field, sporting their tournament medallions and game T-shirts, smiling ear to ear as the cameras clicked in rapid fire. These were boys who someone, most likely a parent, had put a bat in their hands, far earlier than they can even remember. And it happened again and again, until one day it made sense what they were to do and their names were added to a team roster. They joined a brotherhood with the same desire to swing hard, hit far, and run like they're being chased by a bear!

One season after the next, they do this for fun, for the love of the game, because to them there's nowhere they'd rather be than surrounding a baseball diamond and kicking up dust if it's not already stirring. Somewhere along the way to learning to hold the bat straighter and catch more balls than they drop, they learn character, discipline, and patriotism, among countless others. Sure, some will play for a just a while and others longer, but what the heart learns about how we're to treasure each other and the moments that come along with them, will hopefully last a lifetime.

With Suzy by my side as I cheered enough for both of us, I got to witness the true heart behind the game as I kept my eyes on the field. "Baseball ready!" they reminded the team, and I couldn't agree more. Whatever inning this life finds us, let us savor the game, holding it tightly in our gloves. It's the game that's remembered, long after the score has been forgotten. Make it an amazing one!

Thank you, Dixie Boys organization, for your emphasis on faith at the start of each game with your prayers, unashamedly spoken in Jesus' name and projected over the loud speaker for all to hear. In a day and time when a moment of silence is usually as much as Christians are afforded, it was so encouraging!

*This post is shared in loving memory of my beautiful friend, Suzy, who played hard, won the greatest of all victories, and is declared "Safe!" in our Father's hands, for all eternity! Her example while being dealt one of the hardest challenges in this life,  taught us that no matter how the game develops, be "Baseball ready!"