A stranger at a ballgame was all he was until about the 3rd inning
I’m not sure what city you live in, but if you’re in or near a major city in the US, you’re most likely hyped about opening day for major league baseball.
Here in STL, as I assume is similar in other cities, the baseball home opener is pretty much a citywide holiday. It’s bonkers, and I love it. You don’t even have to be a baseball (or sports) fan to get wrapped up in it. It’s less of a sports thing, really, and more of a people thing. It’s something we celebrate for many reasons, one of those reasons being that it’s a common denominator across a city of diverse people, neighborhoods, and backgrounds.
My family doesn’t get to as many games as we used to, but it’s fun when we do go. A few years ago, we used to go to around four games a season, which doesn’t seem like a lot at first, but when you factor in bringing kids and then keeping them entertained for three hours while sitting down, yeah it’s totally a lot.
Sorry, game of baseball, but as great as you are, you rarely keep toddlers entertained for that long. I appreciate the effort, though.
A game to remember
As our team plays their first home game this week, I looked at the schedule to see which games we might be able to get to. I then thought back to the game we went to in the summer of 2014.
We had only two kids then, and our second was brand-spanking new, still with that new-baby smell (the good kind, not the poop-in-the-diaper kind). It was his first game so yeah, I was the dad taking a million pictures. It was a beautiful day for a game and there we were soaking it all in.
I was trying to explain the rules to the game to our oldest, a bit over three years old at the time, but he was more interested in the guy in the bright yellow shirt walking up and down the aisles screaming about his box full of cotton candy. Ok, I guess…I get it.
I don’t recall exactly what inning it was or who was batting or anything like that, but it happened. A foul ball came sailing up near our section. It ended up across the aisle and a lucky fan got a ball. We all clapped because that’s what you do.
Two pitches later, it happened again. Same batter — probably the same pitch — a foul ball coming in hot towards us. This one was coming into our section and it flew over our heads, ricocheted a bunch of times off of some chairs, then an old lady, then someone’s overpriced warm beer, and then maybe a soggy pretzel, before finally landing somewhere under the seat in front of us.
No, I didn’t get the ball. I was protecting my kids’ heads. I’m not a monster, you guys. Sheesh.
But, it was the closest I’ve ever come to a foul ball in my life — before or since — and it was pretty damn awesome.
Then it happened
The nice guy in front of us who got the ball was super excited. We clapped. Gave high fives and we were all pretty excited for him. His buddy took a bunch of pics of him holding the ball, strangers asked him if they could hold and see the ball as if it wasn’t like every other ball they’ve ever held or seen (ok fine I was one of those strangers). You know…standard stuff.
Then, out of nowhere, he turned around and asked my son if he wanted the ball.
Our guys were small and didn’t fully realize how flat out amazing this gesture was. They had no sense as to the probabilities of ever getting a foul ball. That you could go to games your whole life (cough) and never, ever (ahem) get a foul ball. Ever.
But there this guy was, extending the ball to my kid. “Here. It’s cool…you can have it. Take it.”
My son looked at me, sensing that this was kind of maybe sort of a big deal. I told the guy that it’s ok. He can keep it. He should keep it. It was very nice to offer, but no thank you.
Then the guy looked at me straight in the eyes, smiled, and explained to me that it was a lifelong dream to catch a foul ball, and then give it to a young kid sitting nearby.
I couldn’t say no.
Going the extra step
It was that second part of his lifelong dream that got me. Not only did he dream of catching a foul ball (ordinary), but then also giving it to a nearby kid (extraordinary).
My son took the ball and said thank you many times as we took pics of him with the ball and this incredibly nice guy. Honestly, it’s hard to tell who is more happy when looking at the photo.
In no way would anyone have judged this guy for keeping the ball and being psyched about it. Perfectly acceptable. But this guy wanted to share his joy and permanently instill a great memory into the lives of strangers — THAT’S the stuff of legends. And here I am blogging about it years later.
I’m sharing this story and photo again with my boys today, to remind them that going that extra step to spread joy is always worth it…even when it’s unexpected.
Especially when it’s unexpected.
Thanks buddy, whoever and wherever you are. You’re a legend in our house.
Now let’s play ball.
#bewhatyoumake
