The(re) Is Crying in Baseball
(Adam's Twenty-Fourth Start)
This right here. It's proof. Proof that, in fact, there's a LOT of crying in baseball.
Because as soon as this image became yesterday's reality, I was inconsolable for four straight hours.
Let me set the stage:
Imagine that every fifth day at work, you have one shot to put together an impeccable presentation for your boss. You either do great and he likes it. Or you suck and he hates it. Your job is on the line, but whether good or bad, he keeps to himself what he's really thinking about you. You could be his main man. Or you could be his pawn. It's a toss up. But he won't tell you. It's a secret. You just have to wait for some arbitrary time, when he finally calls you into his office to say, "Hey, I like you. And I think you have good ideas. Congratulations on your promotion." Or, "Hey, thanks...but actually no thanks. We like this guys' ideas better."
That's baseball for a starter. And it's like no other job I can imagine. You work your tail off every day, but it really only counts every fifth day. Bizarre. So when that fifth day comes around, you better figure it out. Adam...he handles his schedule tremendously well. Me, not so much. In fact, every fifth day, I mutate into this jumbled disaster of paranoia, anxiety, and nervous energy. It's really unattractive. I know. It's something I pray for continuously - that the Lord would teach me contentment in all circumstances and provide me with situations to learn from. Clearly, I still have a long way to go. Because yesterday, my anxiety was the worst it's been all season.
So, Adam took the hill at 2:05 his time. If not rain, it's the early game. Whatever. I'm over it. That's just how the season's rolled this year, and he's managed to excel regardless. He's incredible. Tough. Really tough. And I'm so proud of him. Anyways, Adam threw the best he's thrown almost all season. For the first time in his career, he entered the eighth inning having given up only two hits all game. He was on a roll. With 0 outs in the eighth, Adam gave up two singles. Man on second. Man on first. He then struck out the next two hitters. Bottom of 8, two outs. Score: 0-0 (we hadn't scored a run in 17 innings). The tension was thick (at least where I was). If they left him in, he may still be able to get his league-leading twelfth win of the season...if the Suns could score in the bottom of the ninth. But then our coach walked out to the mound and took the ball from Adam. 7 and 2/3 innings, Adam was done. Job and game well done. But now, there was no way for him to get the win. That alone made me sad. He had thrown so well, but wasn't going to get any reward for it (that's how it went in my head at least). So...I started tearing up of course. The best he could do was earn a no-decision. The worst? Well, since the guys on first and second were his, if they scored, Adam would get the loss. And that's exactly what happened. A three-run blast over the left field fence scored those two boys. It was at that exact moment that baseball ripped my heart right out of my chest and stomped on it. I cried and cried. And then I cried more. I slammed my computer shut, ran upstairs, threw my covers aside, and crawled into my bed like a little baby. Weeping. No, I'm not pregnant. I swear. I was just crushed for him. It was so raw and real to me. And just so not fair.
______________________
Adam later told me that baseball isn't fair. That's just how the game is sometimes. And really, that's how life is sometimes. It's not always fair...That's when it hit me. THANK GOD it's not fair. Because if it were, I'd die a sinner's death, separated eternally from the love of God. So thank you Jesus, that life isn't fair. That yesterday wasn't fair. And that baseball, it's not always fair either. Please help me maintain Your perspective.
Adam's line:
7 2/3 IP, 4H, 2R, 2ER (inherited), 2BB, 4K
And guess what? He sat 92-95!!! His velocity decided to make a comeback! There's a happy ending after all!
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