Life Lessons from Baseball: The Journey to Home

I love baseball.

You know why?

It's life.

When the hero leaves home plate and makes the journey around the bases, with others trying to take him out, it feels great to watch him slide into home base, triumphant in his return.

We're all runners trying to make it back to home base.

The baseball diamond is the heart of the story.

You're born.

You start at home, but you need experience so you can grow.

So you approach home plate. You need a reason to go out and face some challenges. Life throws some pitches. Which one are you going to take a swing at?

The Hero (batter) has to be locked in and ready to swing when the pitch is within range.

The batter connects. Can he get to first base? Gotta run like hell to even get into the game before life snuffs you out.

He makes it. Whew. Rest a minute. Can he wait for life to give him an opportunity to get to second base, or does he take the ultimate risk and steal it?

Stealing a base is stepping outside of the normal order of things. He doesn't want to wait and let life (next batter up) dictate his next move. He decides to make a run for it while others are too busy living by the rules of the game.

He's gotta wait for the right moment when all eyes are on the next batter. He's now a player.

That moment when the batter becomes the player is divine.

Second base. Shit, he had to slide and his ankle hurts.

But he's in the game. He's got some experience now. How he made it to second base was either a choice to steal or let life carry him there with some effort.

He made a risky choice, but it paid off.

Doesn't matter.

Now he's on second. He's completely exposed. So many obstacles between him and home.

He's at his most vulnerable because he's injured and because he's on the outskirts of the diamond.

His life is now more complicated because he's got 2 players pushing him forward.

First base player is feeling the pressure to run to second as soon as the batter connects.

Hero is eyeing third.

Man, the pressure to move is intense. Others on his own team are anticipating now a potential scoring run.

Pressure to perform is increasing and he has to zero in on third, with a chance of returning home in flash if the batter in the box hits is out of the park.

This is where the boy becomes a man. Strategy, logic and risk assessment is developing at a rapid pace. More players in the game, more outliers.

The batter hits the ball, and he makes it to first.

Our hero is now on third, he can see home plate and wisdom is his reward.

He's got experience now. He's feeling the pressure to advance and return home, and he's almost made it through the gauntlet.

His eyes are on the batter, but he glances out across the field and respects the others that made his journey possible. They tried to take him out--they did their best, but they didn't succeed.

In a second, he recognizes that skill, luck, grace, and grit were his companions. He was never alone. Not really.

Batter in the box hits a base hit. The hero knows it's going to be close, and he runs like hell with everything he's got. Stealing second hurt his ankle, but he's adjusted his stride and he's heading home.

Slide! Slide! Slide!

And the crowd erupts. His team goes wild! Another one made it back home!

He's no longer the boy that was waiting for the right pitch to get into game.

He's different.

He's transformed.

One more rung up the spiral of experiences is completed.

The cycle continues.

And that's why I love baseball.

Random fact about me: My favorite color is indigo.