Monday, June 30, 2008

ANOTHER GAME TO REMEMBER: It’s a tale of two balls that I will tell you about today. It’s a tale of a star leading us to heroic triumph. It’s also a tale about how everyone matters.

Let me set the stage. Several years ago, David Cone, then with the Yankees, pitched a perfect game. Adam, Isaac, Phil, the Pathetic Earthling, a few other friends and I began a discussion as to whether a perfect game was the ultimate individual achievement in any team sport. After a while, we concluded that it was not since the pitcher must rely on his fielders for many of the outs, and, perhaps even more importantly, he must rely on his teammates to produce runs so that the team can win the game (just ask Jered Weaver of the Angels about that!). We eventually reached a consensus that it was generally not possible for a baseball player to win a game by himself.

I’m not sure I’ve changed my view on that, but tonight’s game between the Narberth baseball “12 and under” all star team and Springfield featured a performance that comes as close to that rarefied standard as any I have ever seen. A boy named Andre was clearly the reason why we won. Andre is a gifted athlete, strong, fast, and graceful. Not to mention that he’s about as nice a kid as you will ever find.

He pitched a 1-0 shutout tonight, with 12 strikeouts in 6 innings of work. In other words, all but 6 outs were “by way of the K”. One of those outs was an outstanding leaping grab by Andre himself, preventing what surely would have been a single. He allowed just 3 baserunners during the entire game, only one of whom reached 3rd base. Andre has an overpowering fastball and outstanding control. He has a particularly nasty pitch that comes in knee high on the outside corner. It’s essentially unhittable.

The Springfield pitcher was nearly as good as Andre. He held us scoreless during most of the game. The one run he allowed … was a home run by Andre, a towering drive that cleared the fence in center field by about 20 feet. As is our custom, we retrieved the ball and I presented it to Andre. All in all, Andre had accounted for the vast majority of our defense and he produced our only run of the game. It was a performance for the ages. Andre is a great player and I suspect that he will receive other home run balls and game balls for his feats on the field. But I imagine he’s going to remember this particular game and this particular home run ball a long, long time.

Despite the closeness of the game, we’d managed to play every player on our roster except one boy, our youngest player, who is named Andrew. Throughout the game, Andrew had done everything he could to help the team win, from cheering loudly, to retrieving bats, to warming up the right fielder between innings. We had him ready to play in the bottom of the 5th inning, but the batter before him unexpectedly hit into a double play. For our final inning on defense, we played our best defensive players to try to preserve our slender lead. And it was probably a wise move since a boy named Brandon made a nice catch in center field of the only ball that a Springfield player hit hard all day.

But at the end of the bench sat Andrew, looking a little sad. “When am I going to get into the game?” he asked politely but with a slight waver in his voice.

I sat next to him and leaned my head right next to his ear, speaking softly so that only he could hear. “We have a chance to win tonight, but it’s such a close game that the coaches decided that we needed our very best players on defense in this final inning. A one run lead can disappear in the blink of an eye. I know that it’s hard for you to just sit here, but I’m going to ask you to think about the team. If we win today, we’ll have accomplished something that no Narberth team has done in the past 15 years. You are a part of this team and if we win, you’ll be happy right?”

He nodded, but a look of uncertainty crossed his face.

I continued. “I was in exactly your shoes once. When I was a sophomore in high school, my team got to play in the first round of the state championship. I was the youngest kid on the team, just like you. And just like you, I didn’t get to play during that game. But my team ended up winning. Now, all these years later, what I remember most about that afternoon was jumping up and down with my teammates when we won, not the time I spent riding the pine. If we hold on to this lead, I guarantee you that you will not regret this sacrifice you’re making.”

Andrew lifted his head and smiled. He nodded more confidently this time. A moment later I heard him cheering for Andre.

Andre struck out the final batter. The team piled on him, full of elation. As we lined up to shake hands, both teams displayed terrific sportsmanship. The Springfield coach made a point of shaking Andre’s hand and telling him what an impressive job he’d done. One of the umpires even shook Andre’s hand!

I called the team over and asked them to sit on the bench while Coach Knox, the Narberth baseball commissioner, spoke to them.

“I have the game ball here” he began. “Normally we’d give it to Andre for the outstanding job that he did tonight, but he’s already got a ball from tonight’s game, thanks to his home run. But tonight we’re going to give it to a guy who did everything he could to help the team win. He cheered for all of you. He picked up the bats. He warmed up the fielders.”

The team looked around, wondering who Coach Knox was describing. I saw a glint of recognition cross Andrew’s face, coupled with a hint of disbelief.

“Tonight,” Coach Knox continued with a much louder voice, “tonight, we’re giving the game ball to Andrew, who showed us what it really means to be a teammate.”

Coach Knox handed the gleaming white ball to Andrew. Tears of joy flowed freely down Andrew’s cheeks. I could tell that he didn’t want to let the other boys see him cry. I moved closer. He pressed his face into my shoulder. I hugged him while all of his teammates patted him on the head.

Coach Dotsey yelled “on the count of three, I want everyone touching Andrew's hat and we’ll yell ‘Narberth’”. The team pressed in tight, arms reaching in to touch the lad’s dark baseball hat.

“ONE, TWO, THREE, NARBERTH!!!”

The tournament continues tomorrow (Tuesday).

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