The Bittersweet Finale
Last night was Luke's final T-ball game. I have mentioned that I was the accidental coach, but have loved the opportunity and even told the original coach that I would coach "Coach Pitch" with him next year if he wanted. He said he would, but only if I would be the head coach from the beginning.
The sweet part of the finale was that we had a good season. I think we learned some things about baseball and I know we had fun. (I say we because I think the players did and I KNOW I did.) We tried to share the wealth and let everyone play every position, even on the days when I would have much rather had Luke or Teigan on the mound. I think the kids came away with a sense of respect for the coaches and the parents commented several times on the good job we had done. I believe many of the things I wanted to accomplish and liked about coaching that I mentioned here came to pass. It was a good season.
The bitter part of the finale was two-fold. First, is the realization that next year is "Coach Pitch" and then who knows what from there. LCAA offers the coach pitch and we will most likely play that, so many of the good aspects will still be in place, but it is a vivid reminder to me that Luke is getting older. With that also comes the knowledge that if he wants to continue to play, he will soon have to move to a competitive league. This tension for me was highlighted on our way to the after-season party when Luke says: "Dad, I think I am going to play baseball all my life like you did soccer. I want to see all of your trophies when we get home." I told him that I thought he probably already had more trophies than I had received my entire life. "You mean you didn't get a trophy every year you played like at LCAA?" Well, no, actually, I didn't. In fact, most leagues give trophies only to the best teams and they keep score and everyone doesn't get to bat every game and the good guys get to play... If it is time for that transition, it is time, but I sure have enjoyed getting to answer the end of game question with, "Well, everyone won. You had fun, didn't you?"
The second part of the bitter is more personal. I realize that T-ball is a small part of the lives of these kids and do not pretend that I made any difference in their lives besides help create/sustain an environment where they could have fun, be encouraged, and enjoy getting to play, even when they may not have been very skilled at playing. There was, however, a part of me that was depressed last night as I compared what I do for a living to what I did as a volunteer and accidental coach. I felt much better about 10 1-hour games and a couple of practices than many of my days at the office. Cognitively, I recognize that my job as a fund raiser makes a difference in the lives of college students. (It allows them to get a quality education in a Christian environment ... doesn't every letter I write say this?) I know changing lives is something more than just a catchy slogan on our business cards. I do wonder, however, how effective I really am at changing lives. On a larger scale, I wonder how successful the university as a whole is at changing lives?
I believe lives are changed in very organic ways. I say organic to mean natural, simple, almost grassroots kinds of ways. It is the organic nature of change that has caused many "postmodern" thinking individuals to turn from church and seek a glimpse of the sacred in more relationship oriented ways. God they like, it's the church they can't stand, or so the saying goes.
It is the reason community is so important, because it is there that relationships can develop that speak to and hear directly the ills, hurts, successes, and joys of our lives. When these times are shared, they can be redeemed and shown to be Godly, sacred moments. I would venture to say freshman English doesn't make a big difference to students, but a freshman English professor can propel a student to a life of greatness. The ability to parse a sentence or understand the imagery of Hawthorne may not change the world, but a student shown God active and alive in the lives of His people can turn the world upside down. Last night, I left wondering if an accidental coach may have done more for the Kingdom than all of the dollars I raised the last five weeks.
I close with a quote from a large donor to a hospital in the mid-west (I don't have the reference on hand or I would cite it) who funded an entire children's hospital:
"I have been successful. Now it's time to be significant."
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