Greetings Dear Reader,
Even if you do not like baseball, stay with me Dear
Reader. There is something here for you.
I promise.
Last night I was privileged to host my friends Jeff and Ruby
at a Mallards baseball game. This is a summer
league for college students who have a real shot at playing professional baseball. It may be some of the best baseball out
there. One can read about this kind of league
in The
Last Best League by Jim Collins.
Even though my Mallards lost I got to spend a pure baseball
evening with friends. True to tradition the
play was good, there were entertaining asides, and the food was excellent. It was a humid summer evening that reminded
me of Braves games as a youth with my Grandfather. The breeze that had all of the flags standing
to did not reach down into the seats to offer any release from the cloying damp
air. One might better understand the
torpor that besieges Southerners in summer.
One of the entertainments for the night was a dog that retrieved
the bats for the Mallards after each hit (video by Jeff).
As soon as play halted he would rush out, grab the back like a stick,
and run it back to the dugout. It made
me wonder what he would do should the bat be broken. We speculated that it might be a two-trip
deal. We also pondered how it made the batter
feel when he would fly out and people were applauding the dog as the batter
made his way to the dugout.
As the game drew to a close the wind shifted in a way that I
recall often from my youth. A refreshing
cool breeze turned the flags to flying in the opposite direction. To the puerile this may have seemed like a
boon. It was a lulling portent to the
experienced. Before the first distant
flash of lightning, I knew that heavy rain was on its way.
The gamed ended and my friends wisely made their way to the
parking lot. The walk to my car was quite
a way. Still I observed a tradition that
I have after every baseball game that I attend.
For the first time, however, I revealed this sacred moment to someone. I explained to my friend Jeff that I was going
to spend a minute with my Grandfather before departing.
I took a moment as the impending storm built to pray and
thank the Father for my Grandfather and the influence he has in my life. As I mentioned earlier this week, he would
have turned 108 on the 12th.
His love of God and baseball turned those shared experiences at Atlanta
Fulton County Stadium into sacred times for me when I was a boy.
We would often have to hurry to the car as a summer
thunderstorm approached after a game. Back then the Braves usually lost. The conjunction of the humidity, the storm,
the loss, and the time with friends last night made the moment echo those
boyhood memories in a special way.
It reminded me that any space is sacred when the heart is turned
to gratitude and love. It put me in mind
that those summer nights long ago spent in section 101, row 1, seats 1 and 2
with my Grandfather was one of the best classrooms I ever visited. Last night in section 107, row 6, seats 1
through 4 I experienced a sacred time with good friends.
The conversation afterwards with the Father and my
Grandfather was all about gratitude and love.
Both the past and the present baseball moments were things for which I am
grateful. The essence of it all reminds
that the joy in the journey is found by seeing the sacred part of every moment
whether it be friends, bat dog, or the weather.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home
owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure
store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Contacts for Aramis
Thorn:
Bookings at aramisthorn@aramisthorn.com
Posts
Thank you for sharing the evening and your memories with us. I was reminded of a much cooler summer evening many years back when we were visiting friends in Maine. We attended a community band concert at a park overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. I was struck at the time that I was witnessing a slice of Americana in its purest form. I had the same sense last night.
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