Walking onto the baseball field at Letourneau College
with my glove in my hand, smelling the fresh cut grass and the dirt of the
baseball infield, I thought I had gotten to the top of the sport for a 14 year
old second baseman. The Hallsville Bob Cats had a pitcher who was one of the best
we had ever faced. Barry Grimes, whom I am friends with on Facebook along with
his wife, one of my school mates in our little community.
Barry was warming up and I was the lead off
hitter. I loved hitting off of Barry. It was a challenge to stay in the batter’s
box when that big overhand curve looked like it was going to hit you, looking as
if that was the intent of the pitcher. I stood off to the side as Barry threw
his warm up pitches and never once did he throw a curve during his warm up. I
knew he was going to throw it to me, he always did.
The first time he threw his curve
with me as the batter, I bailed out of the batter’s box just knowing the pitch
would hit me if I didn’t, only to hear the umpire yell strike one! I was 13
then. Now at 14 I had faced Barry on multiple occasions in the last year. I was
aware of his curve by now. But, over time I realized I didn’t have to bail out.
The ball was going to be a strike, or close enough to hit. He was that good of
a pitcher. I dug in, took a couple of practice swings and waited. The curve was
coming. It always did. And it was always a strike, at least to me.
As he released the pitch the spin looked right.
I recognized it was the curve. As it got closer I wanted to swing and drive it
over the second baseman’s head. I gripped the bat hard and began to lean in and
I wanted to swing, but I waited. Too late! See the ball looked like a curve,
was thrown like a curve. I had seen enough curve balls to know what type of
pitch it was. I didn’t have to guess. It was a curve ball that should have
broken over the plate. However, it didn’t.
The ball hung up in the air and as it got to where I would normally have taken
my cut at the ball, it wasn’t starting its downward trajectory. It was a
hanging curve, a curve that didn’t break.
Believe me, Barry wanted it to curve. But it
didn’t. It hit me. It hurt. The concussion of the ball on my batter’s helmet
wasn’t as violent as it would have been if it had been his fastball. Yes, it
hurt, but I would live. Barry’s plan was good. His motion looked good. His high
leg kick was threatening as usual, but something happened as he released his
pitch. He had lost control, but just a hundredth of a second, just enough to
lose his grip on the ball. He hit the wrong thing, and I hit the ground.
Barry’s loss of his grip has always reminded me of how so many of us lose our grip sometimes in life. We have done life every day for years. The problem is that one day when some of us lost our grip on our lives. We failed to deliver what we usually did. Everything we planned went wrong.
Isn’t it great to
know that we all do that? We all lose our grip on life at times. We go through
the motions doing all the things that we have always done, yet something
happens and we don’t throw the pitch the way we know we should. It is then that
we need to realize we aren’t always perfect doing the right things the right
way all the time. We will fail in life. But, God is there to forgive us when we
fail to “make the pitch” in our lives. God still offers forgiveness for our
sins when we lose focus, miss pitch a part of our lives. It isn’t the end of
the game when we get hit or lose our grip on the pitch (our lives). It is just
life. Barry’s loss of his grip has always reminded me of how so many of us lose our grip sometimes in life. We have done life every day for years. The problem is that one day when some of us lost our grip on our lives. We failed to deliver what we usually did. Everything we planned went wrong.
Life happens. Just follow those who lead you into your future to be with God and take that next at bat or throw that next pitch. Success in life comes after a lot of failures, losing our grip, or getting knocked down.
Life continues on. Barry kept pitching, I went to first, stole second, stole third, and scored on a base hit by Jerry Henson. We led 1-0. We lost 3-2. I kept playing even after getting knocked down and Barry kept pitching to get the win after losing his grip. We both could have thrown up our hand and quit, but we didn't.
Barry is a good husband and father. I am who I am. We both have aged with a love for a sport that taught us endurance.
God understands us and gives us words to live by when times get hard. John the Revelator wrote these words, "This calls for patient endurance on the part of the people of God who keep his commands and remain faithful to Jesus.” Revelation 14:12 Get up, don’t give up. Press on in life and remain faithful to our God."
I'll see you later!
