I witnessed heavy sadness recently.
The starter for the other team was one
Who not that long ago had been dependable,
A steady winner for the team I’ve rooted for
For decades. He wasn’t at that time known for
Overwhelming speed or a change of pace that
Would have batters lunging hopelessly and swinging
Uselessly before the ball ever reached the plate
Geography. He didn’t have a knuckleball that fluttered
Like a wayward monarch and brought back memories
Of Gus Triandos and his out-sized catcher’s mitt
Which loved Hoyt Wilhelm once a week. All
He had was smarts and guts and a calm demeanor
Which announced every time he took the ball
That he was a true professional.
But on this gloomy day, he gave up six quick runs and
You would think that since it was my team which was
Ahead, I’d be ecstatic and eager for more blood lust
— but that wasn’t what I felt. My former friend was being
Hit hard and frequently (yet he was not removed). No one
Was warming up in the opposing bullpen. Still, I stared
At him and recognized the same pro spirit that had defined
Him when he won regularly for us. I felt sadness . . . and
The need to delve into my reservoir of sharp emotions to
Come to terms with how I felt (when normally I would have
Relished the hometown bombardment). Why was I not
Filled with joy by our increasing lead?
After my struggle of self-analysis, the answer surfaced.
The reason that he had been a favorite of mine when he
Wore the City Connect uniform – – – in my thoughts and
Which I related to in a deeply emotional way: He had
Overcome a great and serious challenge years before.
He was a survivor of leukemia. He was a warrior in such
A non-athletic way that I, a typical fan, was able to relate to.
We were both cancer survivors. We were both watching the
Big C fade in the darkness of the rear-view mirrors
Of our souls. We belonged to a fraternity that made
Us both professionals. I so much wanted to protect his
Feelings on this day when my beloved team battered
Him – – – but that was hardly necessary. I grasped that
He had survived the scourge, and he would overcome
What was on that day not long ago just another ball game.
He would remain, when the final score was there, the
Same professional that I recognized as a member
Of a fraternity that also took me in. His recent performance
Was forgettable but the man will not be forgotten!