A little story:

A boy grew up in poverty. He lived in the wrong side of the tracks, but he loves baseball! The professional team he followed was the closest team to his area; which also was his Grandfather’s and Great-Grandfather’s favorite team. The Chicago Cubs. Being military men, the color of the jerseys caught their eyes: Red, White, and Blue!

One day the young man said, “Grandfathers… I am going to play for them someday, as long as a war doesn’t break out and take me away from it! But if it does, I’ll comeback and play for a blue, red, and white team! Mark my words!”

The grandfathers both looked at the boy and laughed and said – someday you will play ball! You make it to the Cubs, make sure you drink lots of beer to make it happen. The boy did not understand the thought process behind his grandfathers words, and the boy continued on playing baseball in the back alley, stick ball to some, and others broom handle rock. He was making it happen.

Winter came and the boy practiced. He practiced in the cold, gifted by his grandfathers a real ball, a wooden baseball bat (Louisville Slugger), and the same mitt that the boys favorite player utilized on the field. And this made the boy practice more, every chance he got.

The Grandpas never told him to stop, but rather to keep playing, keep practicing. The Grandfathers, of age, died. And the father of the boy was not a baseball visionary. But he could tell his son was good at baseball and wanted him to succeed. He would watch his son from a distance, while he drank his beer, and shout out encouraging words to the boy.

Days turned into years and the boy grew into a favorite of many people that watched him. Garnering the attention of colleges, but still not playing on an organized team. But rather keeping his head low and batting off the tees and the ropes balls that his Grandfathers had given him those many years before they passed.

War was breaking out again in the Middle East, the boy now a young man, thought about his options: 1) to play ball at a college, or 2) learn a new trade of his grandfathers. Learn to be a fighter, a killer, a humble servant among the country. The ultimate patriot.

Baseball is now in the blood of the boy’s, now a man, and the man relives his baseball days through his sons, and every night on the television.

Moral of the story: baseball is a way of life. Humbling and trying, it is the way that Americans learn about being a man. It starts with a ball, a bat, and vision!