Baseball as Metaphor

"It breaks your heart. It was designed to break your heart." A. Bartlett Giamatti

You may have already notice that I use quotes for inspiration. I wanted to write about Baseball. To paraphrase Giamatti, it is a game that starts in the spring and brings hope and promise and ends in the fall when the days are getting shorter and the warmth of summer is fading. I was going to talk about baseball. One of the great passions of my life, but when I read that quote and started thinking, I realized that the author was not just talking about baseball but he was also talking about life. I would like to talk about both.

I am not a rookie. I have been around the league a few times and here I am in the summer of my life and the days sometime seem to be so long. Believe me. But they are also filled with warmth and sunshine and baseball. My dad is in the fall of his life and his days are getting shorter. He is looking forward to the off season to nurse the nagging, career ending injuries that will cause him to retire from baseball, excuse me, I mean life.

I always strove to be like him. I will never be as great a player as he was and we never played in the same game. But my dad taught me a lot about how to be a play the game. My dad has never thrown me a baseball, literally. He does not share my passion. But that is okay, we have shared other things. He has given me his value system, if not his beliefs. And for that I am forever grateful. But you know it wasn't always great.

I realize now that everything I have done in my life I have done either for my dad or to somehow get back at him. He was an engineer and said I should go to college to prepare me for the majors. He wanted me to become a technical writer. I didn't think I could. When I was a rookie I declared myself a free agent and hit the road. I dabbled in the minor leagues for longer than I care to admit with no thought of making the majors. I worked in a dead end culinary career for 14 years.

Then I finally took my old man's advice and made the move. I signed a long-term contract (got married) and started on a new career. I had a plan. I would do as my dad wanted, not because he wanted me to, but because we wanted the same thing. And before long I made it to the majors (better job). I haven't set any records yet but I am still learning how to play the game. I guess it is a tribute to him that I am doing exactly what he suggested that I do. He knows me better than I know myself. Or maybe he just had greater plans for me. I know for a long time there I had broken my dad's heart. I never quite lived up to his expectations.

"It breaks your heart. It was designed to break your heart." My dad never watched me play. In the two years that I played baseball as a kid, I got one hit. My dad didn't see it. Now I have a son. I taught him everything I know about how to play ball. We had a lot of fun. We played catch in the evenings. He learned the game and my son and I are closer than my dad and I. And when it is time for my son to sign a contract or become a free agent…. I hope he makes the right choice. But I think he may break my heart. Right now his favorite sport is skateboarding. He has given up on baseball.

I know I broke my dad's heart by my wasted youth. But I think (hope) I am making up for that now. I see my dad at least once a week now. He had a stroke a few years ago. For all of my life my dad tended his garden. It was his joy, his passion, his means to relax. He no longer goes to his garden. He can't get around like he used to and his eyes are going bad. But I know that someday he will be able to see his son hit that home run. And I hope to make him proud.