Anyone who knows me well these days will know that I am not much of a sports fan. I’ll watch a golf tournament on TV occasionally; and once or twice during the regular season, I’ll watch a college football or basketball game. If a team I have some association with is playing in a bowl game, a championship tournament, or some other kind of post-season game, I might even watch most of a game. By and large, however, my interest in sports has been in a long decline.
Remarkably, my mind for some reason has been turning back recently to my personal experiences with baseball. Surprisingly I have recalled a number of great lessons that I gained from a rather minor engagement with that sport. I had no deep dedication to the sport that created longings for a major league baseball career, but I learned some valuable lessons from the game.
My first experience with baseball actually began when I was eleven years old living in Homewood, Alabama, a suburb on the south side of Birmingham. That year a Little League program was being formed in our community; and the local newspaper announced that try-outs would be held on an upcoming Saturday morning. Tommy Richardson, a third cousin of mine, invited me to go with him to the tryouts. Though Tommy was a couple of years younger than I was, he already knew a whole lot more about baseball than I did. When we showed up for the tryouts, each of us was told to go to a position in the field that we would be interested in playing. Tommy knew that he wanted to be a pitcher, so he immediately left for the pitcher’s mound. I had no idea where I wanted to play. The group that was gathering at second base looked like the smallest group, so I made my way over there to try out as a second baseman.
The tryouts consisted in one of the coaches hitting three or four grounders to each candidate. The candidate fielded the ball and threw it to first base. I obviously showed no great skill at this; for when the time came to go home from the tryouts, I had not been chosen for any of the teams. Tommy, however, had been a quick choice for the manager of the Pels (named after the then New Orleans Pelicans). A gifted nine-year-old pitcher seemed to be a prized candidate. As we walked home, Tommy expressed surprise that I had not been chosen. He said he knew that his team still had some openings, and he suggested that I go with him to his team’s first practice that afternoon. I decided to give it another try.
The coach of the Pels didn’t seem to mind when I showed up with Tommy for the practice. He put me at third base while the team practiced. Frankly, I made several outstanding plays during the practice (I even surprised myself); and the coach decided to put me on the team’s roster. He seemed especially glad that I was eleven years old, because each team could only have a certain number of slots for twelve-year-olds and he already had his full roster of twelve-year-olds. [More about this in a later post.] So I became a Pel.
I guess the lessons here are pretty obvious:
• Don’t be afraid of trying something new—something that you have never done before.
• If at first you don’t succeed, try again. (You knew that, right?)
• Drawing the attention of others to your particular gifts and skills is not always easy, especially when your confidence is low and your self-esteem is meager. Most of us are not flashy, but we often can make up in persistence for what we lack in pizzazz.
• Don’t turn down the encouragement of others. They may open doors for you unexpectedly.
• Managers, employers, and others often have hidden agendas in what they are looking for. Often you will not know why you were or were not chosen for a position. Don’t over-analyze the situation or assume that you know everything about the expectations. Often something unexpected will prove to be the main reason you were chosen rather than someone else.
Monday, April 25, 2011
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love this...thanks! I also needed this...:)
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