I sit here in the summer of 2006, watching my son go through the rollercoaster of preparing for his senior year of high school and hopefully securing a place to play baseball in college. However, while I do that, my mind goes back to the summer of 2001.
My son was 12, and on a rollercoaster ride that he will never forget. That summer, the all-star team from his Cal Ripken league made it to the Cal Ripken World Series. He wasn't a starter, he didn't play much. But those memories, oh those memories! These were his first trips away from home to play baseball, and he was loving it. After the picnic before the games started in Vincennes, Indiana, he ran up to me and said "Dad, those guys from the Australian team were cool!" He got to meet Cal Ripken and Billy Ripken. He was supposed to be going back to school (with the rest of his teammates), but they didn't care, they were winning. He was cheering on his team, warming up pitchers, ever the teammate, waiting for his chance if it was going to come. His team fought against huge odds, and made it to the championship game. Still no appearance, but he was ready if needed. Well, he became needed. It was the bottom of the 5th inning in the championship game against Korea. A batter got hit in the elbow with a pitch, and my son was called to pinch run. He got to 3rd on a single to right and scored the eventual winning run on a passed ball. On national TV. One set of grandparents in the stands, the other watching on TV from thousands of miles away. More tears of joy than I have ever seen from my parents, or from me, for that matter. The winners medal still proudly hangs on his wall.
Three weeks later, his world and ours would change. He played baseball the night of 9/11, mostly because that was the most normal thing any of us could think of for our young children to do. The note that I most cherish about this whole experience came from a co-worker of mine who saw the replay of the game the week after 9/11. He said "watching young kids from Korea and the United States play their hearts out for a game that they love was surely an antidote to the hatred in the world. Thank you"
Every once in a while, we dig out the old scrapbook and laugh at the little kid who is in the photos. We're sad at the members of that team who aren't playing baseball any more, just 5 years later. But we're proud of the fact that 5 of those kids have been on the field for state high school championship games since that time.
For those of you embarking on these dreams, cherish them, for they go quickly!
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