It's time for baseball again.
This is the time of year
I make my formal apology to non-sports fans everywhere, as I take the
time to rejoice in the ritual of baseball's spring training. I suppose
I must also apologize to the fans of other sports, those sports which
are ever so noble but regrettably inferior to baseball.
As our
winter takes another chilly turn, baseball players gather in Florida
and Arizona for spring training. Seasoned veterans and raw rookies all
have hope in their veins. They will make the team this year, after
years of "almost." All the batters believe that batting .300 is
achievable. All the pitchers believe 15 wins or 20 saves is achievable.
Everyone's home team has a chance to win the pennant. All baseball
fans, from the wisest newspaper writers to the most naïve local fans,
take a renewed interest in the home team. Baseball in the spring is the
very definition of "hope springs eternal."
Hope and endurance
are the foundations of success in baseball. Baseball is the sport for
those who can endure, and hope is the source of that endurance.
Baseball is the sport of endurance. First off, of course, is the sheer
length of its incessant schedule. Even the worst professional team will
play 162 games this year. The difference between a first place team and
a second place may turn out to be one game among those 162.
Baseball
is the sport of humble aspirations. By "humble," I mean down-to-earth.
There will be no such thing as a team that wins every game, or even a
batter who gets a hit in every game. In fact, the expectations are much
more "down-to-earth," "humble." A successful batter needs to get a hit
only 30% of the time. A player's inner hope and emotional endurance
will inspire him to return to the batters' box after he has made seven
outs in a row. After all, three successive hits in a row would then
give him that ongoing .300 batting average.
Baseball will test
the endurance of fans, too. It takes a lot of time to appreciate and
enjoy the art of baseball. Fewer and fewer of us tend to devote much
time to anything these days. We prefer the quick e-mail message, the
short phone call, the casual glance at the newspaper or the television
news. The game of baseball introduces long periods of no action into
the game. A play itself lasts only twenty seconds; and then we all wait
two or three minutes for the next play. By then, many of us have
changed the channel.
But the art of baseball lies in
appreciating those moments between the actual plays. For the game of
baseball is the thinking and strategizing over how that play will
develop. How do the fielders position themselves? What pitch does the
pitcher throw? What will the batter anticipate? Who is scheduled to bat
next inning? Who is warming up in the bullpen? The play itself is
quick; the art-the discipline"”takes a lifetime.
I could go on,
just like baseball goes on and on. But if you've read this far, you
deserve the closing Christian analogy. The analogy is that we all need
Spring Training. We all need to get our muscles and training routines
back into shape. We all need a review of techniques and strategies. We
all need to work on what we are supposed to meditate on "between
plays," or between crises. We all need to renew our hope and our
endurance.
In the church, we have another name for this Spring
Training. We call it Lent. It's time to get our aching prayer routines
back into shape. It's time to renew our hope. It's time to focus on
what God really wants us to do in this life. We call it Lent. It is the
intentional training of our spiritual lives, so that we can succeed in
the long season of resurrection life.
Sam Candler
5 March 2009
Sam Candler is Dean of the Cathedral of St. Philip in Atlanta, Georgia. Contact him at scandler@stphilipscathedral.org.
