I can’t help but staying glued to the coverage of Armando Galarraga’s almost-perfect game (see my baseball blog from last night).
I just read the story of Joyce’s teary meeting with Galarraga at home plate this morning before the Tigers game. And I laughed a little to myself. I had to laugh because first, I cried when I was watching it live, and second I can’t help but still feel bad for Galarraga. Then, when I heard the interview with Joyce after the game when he sadly said that he kicked the call, I felt bad for him, too!
Baseball plays a huge role in my life. It has for about 10 years now. I may not always pay close attention depending upon what’s going on in my life, but the last two seasons, I have been very involved. This was further exacerbated by the fact that I recently subscribed to more cable channels so I can watch more games than I used to. Along with the emergence of Twitter, I can follow most games instantly. So, when Halladay was close to perfection last Saturday, I was able to get to a TV just in time to watch that moment. The triumph of it, along with knowing Halladay’s story, made me tear up a little.
And last night, waiting for ESPN to switch to the Tigers game, my stomach was in knots. See the truth is, no matter who you pledge allegiance to as a baseball fan, you can’t help but cheer for great moments (unless, of course, the Yankees are involved).
I’d like to think that’s the same of real life. At our very core as humans, we want each other to succeed. And we take pain in each other’s failures. I just love that baseball creates a forum for these human instincts. It brings out the best (and the worst) in people. And it definitely gives us space for tears, for forgiveness, for sadness, and for triumph.