Saturday, October 26, 2019

Continuing to learn life's lessons at 93 from the World Series


I spent six hours yesterday afternoon at the Washington's National Stadium, but luckily didn't get into the game. Of course I hadn't planned to. Even if given a ticket, I would turn it down. You see, when you are “handicapped” and drive a scooter over torturous terrain with curbs and potholes, one doesn't want to risk turning MY scooter over on me again in the darkness.

But quickly here are three lessons from yesterday. In preparing them, I'll give up the pleasure of going again tonight. And in all candor, yesterday was totally exhausting for theses ancient bones so I hope tonight the results are better and I'll stay up until the end. If these have ANYTHING near the response from the first five, you'll continue to get more as the mood insists.

6. You can't count on “Miracles” happening with regularity
But of course, that is obvious. But is it? We already had several baseball miracles all season long as we overcame a horrible start and ended with a miraculous string of victories. We even now have to get ready for another miracle, THAT WE MIGHT NOT WIN THE SERIES. Such a lesson, but miracles are the subject of religion – or is it spirituality – and already there are those who think I talk about that too much. I'll save that for a continuing blog about spirituality, worship and religion when I finish THE BASEBALL SEASON! As those who really know me, know that those topics consume me on a par with sports.

7. Is it worth risking one's life to play what is “merely” a game.

Of course this is one lesson I didn't learn before the game, it is what flashed into my mind the moment I saw the expression on Ryan's face as he lie on the ground. It was certainly reinforced by the picture in today's Post. How I wished I had studied philosophy so I could share insight into this and the (I guess its an existential question: Is it worth risking my life to live.) But there I go, religious/existential overtones. But for now simply in all our sports what is the real purpose of involvement.

A more simple lesson might concern looking at the sports world generally. Have we sold out the fun aspect of sports in the name of perfection, excellence, a possible scholarship and trophies rather than play?

And since time is limited before the next game, here was – for me – the overwhelming emotion of the six hours:

  1. Amazing how sports can bring the community together

Of course I said that in Lesson 5. And up-front I must admit that concerns with racial disharmony have been a life-long passion of mine and my entire family. However I personally experienced it in a way than I had never previously and certainly from that found in The Washington Post's article today, “At Nationals Park, A divided DC unites.” (And I bow to no one in my admiration for the paper proclamation, “Democracy Dies in Darkness.) Their “unification” concerned those attending the game, affording expensive tickets and concerned with the unification of forces as disparate as political parties and dissonant media viewers.

Briefly here was the audience I wondered if I would see: the historically racially divided city black, white and Latinx.
Arriving at 11:00 A. M. I was almost totally surrounded by Black and Latinx workers preparing the scene. As I approached the ticket booth I felt at home with a group of fellow Michiganders of varied hues hoping to get tickets at face value.

But the next five hours were spent in both causal and deep conversation and in being photographed, quoted and interviewed. And this is the mix I saw and feelings I had that almost overwhelmed me.

The festive, friendship one sees in the media are totally accurate. On a personal level I had warm and friendly relations with EVERYONE While the crowd was hundreds or so white to one, my “close contacts” were about 15 white to 7 minority. I SHALL CONTINUE TO BE IN CONTACT WITH 1 WHITE 6 MINORITY. And shared meal at Zimmerman's Restaurant with three who had previously lived in the area.



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