July 16

The reality of this human life we lead is that we want things to go our way. We want all of the pitches we throw to be called strikes and all of our hits to be homeruns. 

But of course because it is human life and human life is an adventure that features just as many valleys as it does hills, we have troubles. And Brady's team had more than a dose of trouble today (though it started of well enough).

They played their first game against a very polite and pleasant team from a nearby town. The affair ended in a tie, but there wasn't so much as a peep of dissention between the sides and I would happily play those boys over and over again. I even sat next to the grandmother of one of the boys on the opposing team and we talked through the entire game as a gentle breeze ruffled the trees overhead. It was as idyllic as 11-year old all-star baseball can be.

But the second game. Oh, the second one. It was only a half hour later, but the tone was completely different. It was an ugly affair against a different team from a different nearby town. The bad blood started when the opposing coach apparently complained about our starting pitcher's delivery in the first inning, which threw him off his game a bit. And it went downhill from there. There were bad calls, pitches seemingly thrown at heads, bickering in the stands between sides, and insults thrown at the 17-year old home plate umpire (who did an impressive job of handling some awful behavior by adults). And the game even ended in ugly fashion, with the other team scoring the winning run on a wild pitch. 

It was bad, and I felt absolutely yucky.

But you know something? It was also good. As I watched the boys deal with blow after blow, I realized that they were handling it all better than the adults who were charged with raising them. They weren't overtly complaining, they weren't throwing fits, and they weren't griping to the umpires. They were quietly going about their business on the diamond. And on the way home, as we were stopping for some post-game treats at DQ, I told Brady I was proud of them for how they kept their composure and how they offered up an audible "good game, [city name]!" cheer after the final inning. It was a display of good sportsmanship in the face of a disappointing and arguably unfair outcome. Oh, they were mad, Brady told me, but they kept the frustration to themselves. What I heard? They chose to keep the peace amid bad circumstances they knew they could not control.

No, this life isn't fair. But it's such a blessing to see bright spots forming in the shape of the next generation.