From out of right field!
Kicking dandelions and more. . .
I'm nearly 58 years old and still find myself occasionally standing in the loneliest corner of the ballpark - right field.
The casual observer might think that nothing has changed. It's still the case that fewer balls are hit to right field. If you're the kid in right, you spend more time counting the dandilions than chasing down fly balls.
But this weekend, a little time in right field was a time for me to reflect.
But this weekend, a little time in right field was a time for me to reflect.
Some things stay the same . . . and improve!
I was visiting my son's family in Utah on a sunny and windy Friday afternoon when we loaded everyone in the car for a trip to the park. The girls brought a friend and spent their time on the playground equipment. Ryan, Easton and I (along with family friends Andy and Ethan) headed to the diamond for some batting practice.
I divided my time between running down (well not really "running") some infield ground balls at short stop and fielding some throws at first base when I heard my daughter-in-law call me to the right field fence that separates the ballpark from the playground. Rachel needed to run home for a few minutes and asked me to keep an eye on the girls while I could also watch the guys from out in right.
And that's when it hit me. During that 15 minutes while I was standing there in right field... laughing with the kids at the fence of the playground and watching the batting practice 146 feet away. I looked into the diamond and saw Ryan pitching to Easton. Toss after toss, one swing after another. 25 years ago, that could have been me pitching to Ryan. Now, I could see how much time had passed and how life has its order for things. Yes, Ryan is much better at it that I was - and not just the pitching. He's an amazing dad and is his son's biggest fan and friend. His life is full, but never too full for a game of catch, shooting some hoops, or bouncing on the trampoline.
We had three generations on the field this weekend. It was great. And I soaked in every minute of it. Realizing that the view from right field is both the same... and much improved!
Moral of the story: Stand back against the fence and look hard at what you've produced in your life. What is really important? Some things are good enough. They don't need to be fixed. How's that for an edge?
I divided my time between running down (well not really "running") some infield ground balls at short stop and fielding some throws at first base when I heard my daughter-in-law call me to the right field fence that separates the ballpark from the playground. Rachel needed to run home for a few minutes and asked me to keep an eye on the girls while I could also watch the guys from out in right.
And that's when it hit me. During that 15 minutes while I was standing there in right field... laughing with the kids at the fence of the playground and watching the batting practice 146 feet away. I looked into the diamond and saw Ryan pitching to Easton. Toss after toss, one swing after another. 25 years ago, that could have been me pitching to Ryan. Now, I could see how much time had passed and how life has its order for things. Yes, Ryan is much better at it that I was - and not just the pitching. He's an amazing dad and is his son's biggest fan and friend. His life is full, but never too full for a game of catch, shooting some hoops, or bouncing on the trampoline.We had three generations on the field this weekend. It was great. And I soaked in every minute of it. Realizing that the view from right field is both the same... and much improved!
Moral of the story: Stand back against the fence and look hard at what you've produced in your life. What is really important? Some things are good enough. They don't need to be fixed. How's that for an edge?
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