Mine is a personal lesson in perspective. Oldest son was 12 and had struck out 18 straight batters over a few games in Little League. Only he and I were aware of that as you would imagine. The would-be 19th was in the batters box and my guy lobs the ball to the plate. Batter swings and misses. I say to him from the dugout "throw the ball." He looks at me with that "be quiet" look. He lobs the next pitch even slower. Now I'm getting angry. I firmly tell him to throw the darn baseball. I get the same look. Next pitch even slower and the batter taps one back toward the mound. Son goes after the ball in slow motion and doesn't make throw. Batter hits first and jumps into the first base coaches arms.
So I'm about to have a stroke when I get the best baseball lesson of my life.
The batter was a wonderful young man with Down Syndrome in my son's class who courageously played Little League baseball. Great kid from a great family. I didn't know he was the batter. My son did. The first base coach was his father. He started to laugh and cry when his son got to him. It was his first hit. My son saw the boys reaction with his dad and looked over at me and smiled.
There are lots of lessons taught by baseball. Perspective is one. Compassion is another. My son had those concepts understood at 12. My best baseball memory was that day, when my son opened my eyes to the simple fact that there are sometimes things more important than a strikeout.