by Victor P.<\/p>\n
It was a warm Saturday in May.\u00a0 The kind of day that makes one forget about the recently concluded Chicago winter.\u00a0 I was working that afternoon as a high school baseball umpire for a local high school.\u00a0 Neither team was particularly good, nor was there any prospect of post-season playoff success.\u00a0 Nonetheless, I went about my avocation with my usual attention to detail, and as much professionalism as my $45.00 pay check could encourage.<\/p>\n
As the last inning began, the home team coach called to the visiting team coach and asked him to meet at home plate.\u00a0 He motioned for my partner and me to meet there as well and the four of us had a conversation.\u00a0 The home team coach asked for our indulgence.\u00a0 It seemed he had promised the \u201cbat boy\u201d that he could have one \u201cofficial\u201d at bat in a high school varsity baseball game.\u00a0 The coach explained that the bat boy was mentally retarded, and when the game was officially over and the last, real official out recorded, he wanted to bring the bat boy out for his at bat.\u00a0 He asked us to \u201cstay in character\u201d and give the boy an authentic experience.\u00a0 The coach went on to explain that he would personally pitch to the bat boy so the opposing team\u2019s pitcher wouldn\u2019t have to worry about what to do.<\/p>\n
I saw the visiting team coach return to his bench and call a quick team meeting to explain the situation.\u00a0 My partner and I looked at each other and we both just rolled our eyes.\u00a0 We weren\u2019t getting paid enough to be part of this charade, and furthermore, I wanted to go home. I was tired.<\/p>\n
After the last out was recorded, I heard the home team coach yell, \u201cJimmy, get a helmet on, I want you to pinch hit!\u201d\u00a0 Jimmy looked back at the coach through thick, Coke-bottle eyeglasses and said, \u201cFor real coach!\u201d\u00a0 \u201cYep, get in there,\u201d was the reply.<\/p>\n
Jimmy came up to the plate wearing a mismatched striped t-shirt and plaid pants.\u00a0 He had on black socks and tennis shoes and a helmet that was far too big for his head.\u00a0 I\u2019m no mental health expert, but it was clear that Jimmy was mentally challenged.\u00a0 The coach stood about half-way between the pitcher\u2019s mound and home plate and softly tossed the ball underhand to Jimmy.\u00a0 He swung and missed, strike one.\u00a0 Again, strike two.\u00a0 Finally, on his third swing, Jimmy hit the ball about four feet.\u00a0 Everybody yelled, \u201cRUN!\u201d<\/p>\n
Jimmy ran to first base, and the catcher picked up the ball and dutifully threw over the first baseman\u2019s head into right field.\u00a0 The first base coach yelled for Jimmy to run to second.\u00a0 As he was rounding second and heading to third, the relay throw came in from the right-fielder to the second baseman, who turned and threw over the third baseman\u2019s head.\u00a0 The third base coach yelled for Jimmy to run home.\u00a0 Jimmy crossed home plate, and the entire team was waiting to congratulate him.\u00a0 You would have thought Jimmy single-handedly won the World Series.\u00a0 Jimmy yelled to his father in the stands, \u201cDaddy, I hit a home run!\u201d<\/p>\n
The reason this story is a parable for me is that it is not a historical allegory telling me how God acts with humankind, nor is it a moral story telling me how to act before God and towards one another. (See Ludwig, p. 16) Rather, this story shattered the deep structure of my accepted world, removing my defenses and making me vulnerable to God.\u00a0 You see, I was something of a \u201cmentally retarded-a-phobe.\u201d\u00a0 That is, I didn\u2019t think the mentally handicapped were particularly valuable to society, I was uncomfortable in the presence of them, and I certainly did not think they could teach me anything.\u00a0 Instead, Jimmy taught me mercy and compassion, and the love he had for his father was no different than the love I had for my father, and Jimmy\u2019s father was no less proud of his son for his home run, than I am when my \u201cnormal\u201d child hits a home run.\u00a0 Jimmy stretched me, challenged me and provoked me that day to thank the God who taught me how valuable the mentally handicapped, and indeed all life is.<\/p>\n
To this day, I don\u2019t know who had the more profound experience \u2013 Jimmy for hitting a home run, or me who experienced the mystery of God\u2019s love on a baseball field, on a warm May afternoon.\u00a0 All I know is that like Jesus\u2019 cure of the man born blind in John: 9, I had new sight.\u00a0 Maybe that\u2019s why people say that umpires are blind!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
by Victor P. It was a warm Saturday in May.\u00a0 The kind of day that makes one forget about the recently concluded Chicago winter.\u00a0 I was working that afternoon as a high school baseball umpire for a local high school.\u00a0 Neither team was particularly good, nor was there any prospect of post-season playoff success.\u00a0 Nonetheless, read more