I'm not sure what to say about this. I have a growing list of writing ideas and a shrinking amount of free time, but writing about the redemptive value of sports is one of those topics. I don't think I'll try to tackle that here, save for a few sentences, maybe.
The above photograph is every male in my family aside from my middle brother, AT. I am the only one in the family to have been to the new Target Field, so it was a great opportunity to get all of us together from our three different states of residence to enjoy this time together. I've taken my nephew to several minor league games, but this was his first major league game, and a Twins come-from-behind win, at that! (At the outset of the game, his favorite team was the Texas Rangers. Not no mo')
Baseball. Before I left for boot camp, I made sure I played catch with my dad. Before I left for both of my military deployments, I made sure playing catch with my dad was one of the last things I did. While I was in boot camp I received a photograph of my brother playing catch with my nephew on the field where the movie "Field of Dreams" was filmed in Iowa. It increased my resilience.
I enjoy baseball. I appreciate that there is no time limit. I appreciate that in over a century of play, the rules are virtually unchanged. I appreciate that I can go to a game by myself and just enjoy the sounds, sights and smells of the ball field. (Permitting that there are no drunk grown men nearby) I appreciate that they play the national anthem before every game. I appreciate baseball because is ties the generations of the men in my family together. I visited with my grandparents a few weeks ago, and I had a conversation with my 88 year old grandfather about the Twins then-upcoming season. My dad has told me about how fondly he looks back on his experiences of playing catch with his father, explaining why he cries during the last scenes in the "Field of Dreams" movie. Now I cry at the same place.
The Twins went down 0-1 in the first inning. The score remained that way until the bottom of the 8th, when the Twins put together a string of hits and Harrison's (my nephew) favorite player, Joe Mauer drove in the winning run with a line shot down the first-base side. He doesn't even understand all the rules, but he was EXCITED. That made me happy.
After the game I expressed with my dad some frustration, though, as Joe Nathan was trying to finish off the last batter to secure a victory. With every pitch, I realized that a home run from the opposing team would be devastating. I sometimes wish I could watch a sporting event without getting emotionally involved, but I realize that good or bad, it is a very quickly fleeting emotion. There used to be a t-shirt slogan for various sports that read, "Baseball is life. The rest is extras." Somebody bought my dad a shirt that read a little more accurately, although still very extreme, "Christ is life. The rest is basketball." A good reminder of our perspective, anyway.
America does have an obsession with sports, I realize and confess, and I thank God for breaking some of the past compulsions I've had toward sports. With this picture, though, I cannot help but see some of the redeeming value of sports, and the need for fun.
I just realized a church service begins in a half hour. I suppose I should practice what I preach and stop writing about sports and instead worship my Savior.
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