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Today as I arrived in the
office, to my utter delight, I was greeted by four tickets to the Colorado
Rockies, St. Louis Cardinals game on July 23rd. My Uncle Bobby,
who pastors the Praise Assembly of God in Pueblo, Colorado, mailed them
to me as a gift. Life doesn't get much better than this! Just last week
I was telling a friend that I wanted to go to a Rockies/Cardinals game
during our vacation this year. He told me that he already tried to get
tickets, but couldn't because the games are sold out. Now I've got mine
and I can't wait to use them!
I love baseball.
I like to watch batting practice
and the field crew manicuring the infield. I like hearing the vendors selling
their wares, "Hot Dogs, get your Hot Dogs heeeeeere!" I love
the pledge of allegiance at the beginning of the game and singing "Take
me out to the Ball game" in the bottom of the seventh inning. And
I even love watching the stands empty after a game.
Then there is the game itself.
Baseball is the working man's version of poetry. Everything is balanced.
Nine players, nine innings. Three strikes, three outs. Four balls, four
I understand that some of
you don't like the game. You say it is too slow and even go so far as to
call it boring. Don't you see, that's the beauty of the game. Baseball,
like life, is filled with the routine, interrupted occasionally by the
Though I love baseball, I
can't stand to watch baseball highlights on the news. There is no mystery
to it. Every batter hits a home run and every fielder makes an unbelievable
catch. When the spectacular becomes the common place it loses its appeal
to me. Only in the context of routine plays and easy fly balls does the
long ball over the fence grab my attention.
Most of my tomorrows are
like most of my yesterdays. Hum drum, routine grounders. But every now
and then, something out of the ordinary happens (like receiving a thoughtful
gift from an uncle) that makes my soul sing.