Yes, I know.  I like baseball too much.  

It's been the one constant in my life since I was eight years old.  Over the past month, the best I've felt mentally and physically was after I caught eight innings and got two hits - left handed no less (I have a 60% tear in my left rotator cuff that I am rehabbing and it hurts less to bat left handed).  I don't know if it was adrenaline or what, but my shoulder hurt less, my migraine went away for a few days, and except for the bruising and soreness the next day, I felt pretty good for a couple days.  I've gotten a lot from baseball over the years, as much or more than I've given.  

At an early age I knew I wanted to be a professional baseball player, but I also kind of knew that I'd only be one in my imagination.  I'd throw a tennis ball for hours each day against the side of our house or our garage door, taking grounders and working on footwork and fundamentals.  I'd imagine game situations and act them out for practice.  I never missed a baseball practice in Little League and only missed a handful of games, usually because I was out of town with my family.  I took it very seriously, but if we lost it wasn't the end of the world.

Baseball has taught me a lot of life lessons.  It has helped me cultivate my patience, has taught me how to win and how to lose.  It's given me the belief that there are no insurmountable obstacles, that you're never out of it.  I've been on teams that have come back from double-digit deficits, and more often than not teams that I have played on or managed have always finished strong.  I've done my best to never give up, and so have the teams that I've played on.  When the Angels had an open tryout in January 1995, a buddy and I drove up to Cal State Fullerton and tried out - I was pretty sure I wouldn't make it, but I hung around longer than I thought I would and got interviewed by two newspapers. And I can honestly say that I attended a Major League Baseball Teams tryout. 

​Baseball has taught me how to lead, and how to follow.  I have managed teams before, but have a very hands-off management style.  It's a recreational league, we pay to play.  My philosophy is that guys come out and pay their money, I'm going to let them play the way they want to.  If they get a three-and-oh count, and they get a pitch they like, I tell them to take a rip at it.  If they think they can steal, go for it.  If they want to bunt, they can do it.  Mostly, we've had good teams but mixed success, but last year it all came together and we won the Flagstaff Adult Baseball Championship. I had the same philosophy this season, and after back-to-back 5-5 seasons, we finished this season 7-3.  We play in the semi-finals next Sunday (the 7th) and see if we can repeat.

I've won three championships in baseball and at least a dozen in softball.  I've lost in championship games twice, and gotten over it each time.  I've been on a team that went 11-1, and I've played on a team that was 0-11.  I've started a game at every position on the diamond, and in one game I played all nine positions in the same game.  I've been a starting pitcher and a closer, I've been the best defender on the field and the last guy you want to put in.  Same in the batting order, I've hit in every spot.  I've finished a season batting over .700 and another right at .200.  I stole 33 bases in a 17 game season, and I've been a liability on the bases.  I've been there and done that, a lot.  I've had a lot of great memories, and more often than not, baseball and softball have given me self confidence and a positive sense of self worth.

​I've had so many moments, my favorite baseball/softball moments aren't even about me.  For baseball, it was 1999, and Juan Quinones was our second baseman.  he grew up poor in Mexico and didn't play baseball when he was younger, and started playing when he was 33 years old.  He had been o-for-almost two seasons.  On Father's day in 1999, after over forty at bats, he finally got a hit.  We quietly asked the ump to get us the ball, and while he was occupied we all signed it.  We had a doubleheader that day and he left after the first game, but when we gave him the ball, it was one of my favorite moments of all time. He was so happy, and although we weren't a very good team, we were all unified in enjoying watching all that hard work pay off.  The following week, he got two more hits - we told him that we couldn't give him those balls but to keep 'em coming.

​When it comes to softball, I've had too many memories to count (the five three-run home runs in one game was great, but I was most excited when someone else hit a home run to walk us off and win 18-17).  But my favorite moment came back in 2003.  We were in the C league playoffs and playing against a team that we really had no business competing with.  They had more talent and ability.  With us up by a run in the fourth, they had the bases loaded and two outs, and one of their guys was looking at Julie Banthrum in right field.  Julie and the other girls had done extra practice all season, and while she had caught fly balls in practice, she hadn't been able to snag one in a game yet.  The guy shifted his feet and launched one to right field.  Julie moved quickly to the right spot, and squeezed the ball when it hit the glove and held on.  The look on her face was priceless, and everyone on the team but me ran to her like we'd already won the game.  When she got in the dugout she asked why I didn't come out, I told her it was because I always knew she could do it, she was the only one that needed convincing.  Her catch deflated the other team, who hit every ball to either our shortstop or center fielder, our two best fielders.  We won that game and advanced to the championship, and the adrenaline helped us win that one too.  

​I know its a game, and I know I will never make a living at it.  But on Sundays during the spring and summer whether at sea level for the first 40 plus years of my life, or the last three at 7,000 feet, I still feel at home on a field.