Two of yesterday's headlines in baseball have recently reminded me of how much I enjoy this sport and how much I feel that it is full of life illustrations...those two headlines include the retirement of Ken Griffey Jr., and the "almost" perfect game thrown by Armando Gallaraga.
As a kid who fanatically followed baseball and spent hours sorting stacks of baseball cards, I clearly remember Ken Griffey Jr. as one of the biggest stars of baseball. I read about him on the back of cereal boxes. I coveted his Donruss rookie baseball card, one of the most valuable at the time. I tried to imitate his fluid swing in the backyard with my brother. I remember how much youth and energy he seemed to bring to the sport, and he was heralded for being a player who truly enjoyed the sport, obviously having fun as opposed to earning a paycheck. During a time in which many sluggers were putting up unbelievable numbers, Ken Griffey Jr. kept pace and brought life to the Seattle Mariners ballclub. A decade later, he is still honored as being one of the very few stars during his generation who isn't linked to performance enhancing drugs. Yet for all of the praise that Ken Griffey Jr. is receiving now that he has announced his retirement (and I believe the praise is deserved), there is also a bittersweet sense to the ending of his career. After leaving the Mariners to play in Cincinnati, Griffey never seemed to be quite the same player as he struggled through injuries. Although some expected Griffey to be the outfielder that would break Aaron's homerun record, not Bonds, Griffey finished his career just short of Willie Mays on the all-time homerun list. Rather than finishing his career in the outfield, Griffey played the role of the designated hitter, and he had a tough time finding a rhythm at the plate his final season. He was even the target of controversy when a story included an anonymous tip that Griffey had been caught sleeping in the team clubhouse during a game, since which many of Griffey's teammates have argued in the slugger's defense, denying the allegations. Yet in the midst of a sliding career, a string of injuries, and speculation about his ability to still contribute to the game, his teammates still praised Griffey for his enthusiasm for the game and for the sense of joy and camaraderie that he brought to his team, even when things weren't going his way. In fact, his stated reason for retirement was because he was concerned the allegations about his taking a nap in the clubhouse were creating a distraction, and he had decided that if he ever became a distraction for his teammates, he would walk away from the game.
Gallaraga's story is one in which a relatively unknown pitcher found himself one out away from throwing what would have been the 21st perfect game in MLB history, only to have the 27th hitter reach first base on a highly questionable call by the umpire. Afterwards, the umpire tearfully apologized to the pitcher, acknowledging he had made the wrong call in ruling the hitter safe at first base. Despite being credited with a complete game and shutout (the 28th batter was then retired), Gallaraga was "robbed" of being forever included in the history books as one of the few pitchers to ever throw a perfect game. Yet while one might expect Gallaraga to be furious or deeply distraught about the missed call, I think his response is reason to pause and reflect about how we typically handle situations that don't go our way. Many of us are quick to speak up when we don't "get what we deserve," at least if what we "deserve" is something good like a prize or hard-earned achievement. But reflecting upon the "injustice" that he experienced at the hands of a bad call, Gallaraga noted that "nobody's perfect," and umpire Jim Joyce remarked how incredible it was that the pitcher never argued the call (even as his teammates and manager argued on his behalf) but simply continued doing his job.
As I reflect upon these stories, I ask myself questions about what lessons I can learn from them.
- When things don't go my way, or when things in life don't happen as I plan them, what is my reaction?
- When I experience injustice in my life, do I first seek to defend myself and put myself first?
- Do I live a life that is thankful for the blessings I have been given, or do I continually want "more" from this life?
- Am I gracious in how I react to others when mistakes are made?
- Do I seek to make a name for myself in the history books? Or do I seek to offer my life as a "living sacrifice" and glorify the only true perfect savior?
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