Gaining By Losing

In 1995 John was selected to play on a baseball team that had high expectations. The team had been a .500 team the year before. However, they had two of the best pitchers in the league returning and a veteran catcher. In case you didn't know, pitching and catching in little league baseball is the key to winning. If you can't throw a pitch over the plate, you can't win. But after your pitcher throws a strike, somebody's gotta be back there to catch it. Seems easy, huh? It isn't.

In an effort to be concise, the team was great. We beat every team in the league except one. There were two divisions and we won our division, the other team won theirs. During the season, we shut a lot of teams down with our dominant pitching. At one game, the head coach asked me if John had ever pitched. I told him, "Yeah, playing around with me in the front yard." Next thing I know, John's out on the pitcher's mound. You need to know that we were way ahead of the other team. They had just seen our #2 pitcher for a couple of innings and he could really bring the fast ball. Now, all of a sudden, John is about to face the top of their line-up...in the first game that he's ever pitched...and I'm worried sick.

John had an interesting windup. He would get into what pitchers refer to as the "power position" and then he'd pause. Most pitchers go from the power position to the pitch in one fluid motion. Not John. Somehow he'd stretch his arms out as far as he could and then he freeze...momentarily. Then after the pause, his arm would start forward and the ball would come out like a piece of popcorn floating in the air. Now, you ballplayers out there are probably licking your chops right now, right? I can hear you saying, "Wow! I love those slow floaters." Here's what I have to say to that. "Pfffffft". :)~

Remember, we had just thrown our #2 pitcher at the other team. They were used to seeing a ball screaming by. Now, all of a sudden, they have to readjust to a much slower pitch...and one crazy windup. The outcome against the top of the lineup? He gave up three runs that inning. Not bad for his first time to pitch. Next inning...3-up, 3-down. For the final two innings, the coach put in our #1 pitcher and the batters were confused all over again.


After his first game to pitch

Well, that was a magical season. We won everything we needed to win except the very last game that year. We lost 2-1...beat by the other division's #1 team. But I can't explain the feeling you have being a part of a winning team like that. It builds confidence. It enhances your love for the game.

However, about mid-season, I began to put pieces of a puzzle together in my mind, and I was disturbed. The year before, the coach had given plenty of pitching time to the two kids that were now our top pitchers. But, this year, only John was getting experience, in a very limited role. What that spelled was tough times ahead.

Well, sure as the day is long, it happened. The next year, we were forced to use kids that had never pitched before. Can you say, "learning curve"? And, no, I'm not talking about learning to pitch a curve ball. We took it on the chin many, many games. Because of the special team from the year before, John had been accustomed to winning. Now, we were lucky to finish a game without being outscored by ten or more. And that's where he and I learned that we can actually gain by losing. Huh?

John wasn't counted on much the year before. We already had enough play-makers that year. But now...he was carrying the pitching load. And at first, I don't think he appreciated the pressure. But as the season wore on, I noticed John growing mentally and athletically. He began to understand his role as a leader.


The following year...THE pitcher

One game in particular, we were playing another team equally matched in talent. Late in the game, we were tied. We were the home team, so we had the last at-bat that night. Here's the setting: last inning, two outs, game tied, winning run on second base, John at the plate. I was coaching first base that night and I remember yelling things to him like, "Line drive! You can do it! Hit it hard!" I don't remember the exact pitch count when it happened, but John saw his pitch and made contact. The ball sailed out to right field. I quit looking at John and started yelling at our head coach, who was standing near third base, to send the runner from second to home. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, "SEND HIM! SEND HIM! SEND HIM!" I wanted the other team to have the pressure of making the play at the plate. They had to field the ball in the outfield and throw it to home plate before our runner could run from second to home. We had nothing to lose and everything to gain. The runner rounded third and I could see the head coach waving him home. I briefly turned just in time to see the outfielder throw the ball. Both the ball and the runner looked like they were on a collision course at home plate. Then, just like in the movies, everything slowed down..almost dreamlike. I remember the runner's cleats throwing up dirt as he churned towards home. And I remember seeing the seams on the baseball slowly rotating as it glided through the air towards the catcher. Both sides of the stands were screaming, jumping up and down, and cheering for their teams. The runner jumped into a pre-slide position just as the ball came down into the catcher's glove. Both the runner and catcher became engulfed in dust as the runner slid onto home plate. Then, suddenly, it became real time again...back to normal speed. The umpire looked down and yelled, "SAFE!". Game over. We won! This whole time, I had been watching the runner going to home plate. I momentarily forgot about John who had just hit the ball that scored the winning run. I turned and he was standing on first base...doing exactly what I was doing...watching the runner score. We looked directly in each other's eyes and he jumped into my awaiting arms. Now, I don't know how to adequately describe what happened next. But John and I both yelled in unison and our chests reverberated against each other's. It was one of the most exciting things that I've ever been a part of. I can still remember the "feel" of our chests screaming out in celebration.


Ready to knock the laces off the ball

So, when times are tough...when things aren't going your way, don't fret. Take a step back and look at things in a different light. You might be gaining something by losing. God usually uses those tough times to mold and shape us into something we need to become.