The Subversive Journey
This is great stuff to read as we gear up for baseball season!
Tonight begins the quest for October glory. Go TIGERS!
Hi, my name is Ethan and I learned in school that Jackie Robinson lived his life by nine values and used them to break the color barrier in Major League Baseball. This is a story about a time that I used those same values to overcome a barrier in my life.
At my school football got banned because some kids weren’t playing safely. I was very mad. It seemed unjust. I went back to my house that night to talk about it with my family. My father suggested a petition. At the time, I didn’t know what a petition was. So I asked.
He explained that a petition is like a letter stating what I think should happen. It also should have signatures of the people who think the same as me.
I decided to do it, but I was anxious. I couldn’t believe what I was on the verge of doing.
When I woke up the next morning, my dad was still sleeping, so I tried to make the petition myself. It said:
Dear Ms. Lilly,
I am one of the many who would like football back. Here are some reasons why:
1. The school wants us to be active. Football is a safe-fun way to be active.
2. Without football kids get in arguments over games.
3. Exercise makes you better in school.
On the following pages you will see the signatures of the people who think the same as me.
“Yeah, I think that is good.” I said to myself.
The next day I asked my friend Jacob to help me.. Using teamwork, we got the signatures in one recess. Then we turned the petition into Ms. Lilly. I went to bed happy that night, thinking that tomorrow would be a great day. I would have a talk with Ms. Lilly and then football would be back! Well, did I get a surprise!
Days went by and no word from Ms. Lilly. I was getting pretty worried. What if she didn’t get the petition? What if she didn’t care? All of these possibilities were flowing through my head. Then, one day, during math, over the PA system I got a call from Ms. Lilly, saying that she wanted to talk to me.
Ms. Lilly said to make a committee of three third graders, three fourth graders and three fifth graders. We would meet and make the rules for football. She said, “You will contact me when it’s done.”
I left her office feeling very worried. I didn’t know any fifth graders, let alone three of them! But I had to do this. I had to do this for my school and for my friends. I was determined.
Finding kids from each grade to join the committee took a lot of persistence, but with teamwork, we got it done. Now all that needed to happen was the meeting. I couldn’t wait.
At the meeting the next day, we started thinking of rules, voted on them, and then wrote them down. Soon we had a page full of rules. When we presented them to Ms. Lilly, she said, “Great job,” and told me to speak on the announcements the next day.
The next day, on the morning announcements, I explained that anyone who wanted to play football would need to sign a contract to follow the rules that the committee had written. Twenty-five players attended the meeting and signed their names. And that’s how I got football back for my school!
***
To get football back, I had to use Jackie Robinson’s values. I was very committed to overcoming this barrier. Using a petition was an example of good citizenship. It took courage to talk to Ms. Lilly. It took determination to find fifth graders for the committee when I didn’t know any. I had to be persistent. My friend Jacob and I used teamwork to get the signatures. My school is very diverse, and football is a sport that we all play together. Getting football back for all of them felt good. Well, I got the job done, didn’t I? That shows excellence.
Ethan just won First Prize in the Jackie Robinson - Breaking Barriers: National Essay Contest. He wrote an essay about how he was able to bring football back to his school. Amy and I are so very proud of him!
This is what he won: Four (4) FIRST PRIZE winners (two in grades 4–5 and two in grades 6–8) will each receive one laptop computer and one laptop computer for his/her teacher; a class visit from Sharon Robinson; and one class set of Promises to Keep books and Breaking Barriers T-shirts.
If you want to read more about the contest you can here:http://www.scholastic.com/breakingbarriers/teachers/#
This is pretty funny!
According to Reddit user joshb22 this hangs in the Giants visitors clubhouse. I think we’ll need a scientific inquisition into each of these claims.
Congrats to David Eckstein on a great career!
Click through for more of the lovable Eckstein standing
onnext to the shoulders of giants.(Photo by Elsa/Getty Images)
Dear Miguel,
I don’t know you. I have not ever met you. I have watched you play baseball every summer since your arrival in Detroit a few years ago. You may be the best baseball player I have ever seen. Every night before I go to bed I see your life sized poster hanging on Ethan’s, my nine year old son, bedroom door.
You are his favorite player.
He’s never met you either.
Ethan and I cheer for you. We feel like we know you because you are in our home nearly every night from April through September (hopefully October too). Ethan wants to be a baseball player when he grows up and you are one of his heroes.
Today as I drove into work I heard on the radio about your DUI. My heart broke and my eyes filled with tears. I thought this is stupid, I don’t even know him. My heart is broken because I know that Ethan when he watches Sportscenter tonight or tomorrow will find out too. So, I know that he and I will have to talk about it.
I know that he will experience heartbreak.
I know he will cry.
I know I will hold him.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to be you. The pressure you must feel everyday has to be overwhelming. To live every single day in a bubble because you play a boy’s game better than anyone else has to be one of the most difficult things there is. I don’t want to pretend to understand. Because I don’t.
I do want to say this, I am praying for you and Ethan will be too. Whether you know it or not you’re part of our family. You’re one of us, even though we’ve never met you. When you hurt, we hurt.
Miguel, I hope that you will set aside baseball for a while and get the help you need. I hope that some day soon Ethan and I will be able to watch you play baseball again. We will be praying and asking that God will heal your brokenness and that he will break the addiction to alcohol.
My hope is that you will realize that you cannot do this on your own. My hope is that you will realize that you are not invincible and that you need other people to come alongside you and care for you. Let them help. I also hope that you will realize that there is great grace, mercy, and community available to you in relationship with Jesus if you will repent and seek the forgiveness he offers.
Ethan and I will be praying and waiting.
Sincerely,
Ethan’s Dad
Today I have a little procedure to deal with some scar tissue in my esophagus. It is no big deal. Last summer though our family dealt with a big deal medically. I won’t be writing a new post today but I thought that this was a timely one to re-post (it just so happens that the first Tigers telecast of the season is today). This post is from May 29, 2009.
A week ago yesterday my bride received a phone call. It was one of those calls that you dread. Her dad, Dennis, was in the hospital due to a stroke. It was “minor” but for a man like Dennis and for a family like ours it is major. Dennis is an athlete (at times becoming a scratch golfer!). Dennis is the life of the party. Dennis is the picture of the entrepreneurial spirit. Dennis is the kind of man that other men want to be. This is seen in the respect that his four son-in-laws have for him and the tender love that he bestows on his four daughters.
Amy left Detroit early last Thursday morning and drove (I am sure more quickly than she cares to admit) directly to the hospital room in Evansville, IN where Dennis was beginning his recovery.
But wait, that’s not the whole backstory.
The beloved St. Louis Cardinals were about to finish their three game homestand against the hated Chicago Cubs. The Cards had won the first two games of the series and were in position to sweep and return to first place in the division. In business like fashion they dispatched the Cubs and welcomed to town their cross state rivals, the Royals for a weekend set.
Every single day there was baseball. Every single day there was time spent in a hospital room. Every single daay there was a conversation over lunch or dinner that took place between Amy and Dennis about the Cards.
You see baseball was the beginning of healing. It was normalcy brought into an abnormal situation. It was the pastoral balm that allowed father and daughter to sit and talk and be. Baseball. Not doctors. Not a golden tongued preacher. Not a good book. Baseball. It was the context. The rhythm of life that never stops. It’s six on, one off created rhythm that touches us deep.
Some say the season is too long. Some say the games are too long. Some say it’s boring. Some say it’s day in and day out grind take away from it.
I could not disagree more. It is redemptive. It is ongoing. It is always with you. It provides passion, joy, pain, sorrow, elation. Most of all, it provides time. Time for a father and daughter to be together. Time for them to get lost together and forget that they are in a hospital room. Time for them to be transported to that place they both love. That place where the buzz of the crowd, the warmth of the sun, and smell of the hot dog fill you.
Baseball.
Redemption.
A Hospital Room.
Beautiful.
A week ago yesterday my bride received a phone call. It was one of those calls that you dread. Her dad, Dennis, was in the hospital due to a stroke. It was “minor” but for a man like Dennis and for a family like ours it is major. Dennis is an athlete (at times becoming a scratch golfer!). Dennis is the life of the party. Dennis is the picture of the entrepreneurial spirit. Dennis is the kind of man that other men want to be. This is seen in the respect that his four son-in-laws have for him and the tender love that he bestows on his four daughters.
Amy left Detroit early last Thursday morning and drove (I am sure more quickly than she cares to admit) directly to the hospital room in Evansville, IN where Dennis was beginning his recovery.
But wait, that’s not the whole backstory.
The beloved St. Louis Cardinals were about to finish their three game homestand against the hated Chicago Cubs. The Cards had won the first two games of the series and were in position to sweep and return to first place in the division. In business like fashion they dispatched the Cubs and welcomed to town their cross state rivals, the Royals for a weekend set.
Every single day there was baseball. Every single day there was time spent in a hospital room. Every single daay there was a conversation over lunch or dinner that took place between Amy and Dennis about the Cards.
You see baseball was the beginning of healing. It was normalcy brought into an abnormal situation. It was the pastoral balm that allowed father and daughter to sit and talk and be. Baseball. Not doctors. Not a golden tongued preacher. Not a good book. Baseball. It was the context. The rhythm of life that never stops. It’s six on, one off created rhythm that touches us deep.
Some say the season is too long. Some say the games are too long. Some say it’s boring. Some say it’s day in and day out grind take away from it.
I could not disagree more. It is redemptive. It is ongoing. It is always with you. It provides passion, joy, pain, sorrow, elation. Most of all, it provides time. Time for a father and daughter to be together. Time for them to get lost together and forget that they are in a hospital room. Time for them to be transported to that place they both love. That place where the buzz of the crowd, the warmth of the sun, and smell of the hot dog fill you.
Baseball.
Redemption.
A Hospital Room.
Beautiful.
