I wasn’t going to, but…
by Andrea Elizabeth
Apathy is the best defense against emotional pain. I have sworn off baseball since the Rangers’ two tries at the World Series a few years ago. The second one being lost on the last pitch sealed it. I didn’t pay attention to baseball at all this year until it looked like Kansas City would beat the ones who routed the Rangers on their first bid. Revenge! I let myself hope in the last few innings, but I couldn’t watch. I barely looked up at the score every 5 minutes or so to see if it would happen. Revenge is the only thing that can make you feel better than apathy does.
Then I learned about Bumgarner, San Francisco’s pitcher. 25 years old, only 2 days rest, was responsible for their other 3 wins, and he didn’t look tired. I started to let myself get impressed with him. He didn’t seem as evil as the Fear the Beard pitchers and players from their humiliation of the Rangers. He wasn’t trying to intimidate. He was relaxed and fast with no extra showiness.
Still, I hoped. Not enough to pray, however. I didn’t want to drag God into it. Elder Paisios said don’t ask God for a miracle unless it’s really important. Sports aren’t quite as important as Americans think they are. I saw lots of people praying in the stands and in the dugout. I hoped they were praying enough to get the job done, however.
And then, a miracle. One out left in the game, and the outfielder misses, and then misses again, and then misses again. The Royal kept running all the way to third. God does care! It was obviously a divine opportunity. But they didn’t believe enough. When the next guy got out, I didn’t think God was a tease. I thought, what if that guy had tried for home while he had the chance? Would people have been so mad if he’d gotten out trying and ended the game? I think he/or the base coaches\ were given a miracle but weren’t committed to synergistically doing their part. It’s spoiled to think you’ll get another one just handed to you with Bumgarner pitching.
And then he spoke. With a southern accent. It was sweeter than revenge or apathy, and I forgave him/them.