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I
don't know where this story came from or if it is even true. I
do know that it made tears come to my eyes when I read it and
it made me think long and hard about what kind of coach I was
and what kind of players I was developing. I hope you enjoy it
as much as I did.
In
Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning
disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire
school career, while others can be mainstreamed into conventional
schools. At a Chush fundraising dinner, the father of a Chush
child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all
who attended.
After
extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where
is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done
with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other
children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other
children do. Where is God's perfection?" The audience was shocked
by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by
the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered, "that when
God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that
he seeks is in the way people react to this child."
He
then told the following story about his son Shaya:
One
afternoon Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys
Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they
will let me play?" Shay's father knew that his son was not at
all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team.
But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play
it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.
Shaya's
father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya
could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates.
Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said "We
are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I
guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat
in the ninth inning." Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled
broadly.
Shaya
was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few
runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth
inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the
bases loaded with the potential winning run on base, Shaya was
scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this
juncture and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly,
Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible
because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, let
alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the
pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should
at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came in and
Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's teammates came
up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher
waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps
forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya.
As
the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the bat and
together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher
picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball
to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would
have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw
it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first
baseman. Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to
first." Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered
down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached
first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown
the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was
still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's
intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third
baseman's head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second."
Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously
circled the bases towards home. As Shaya reached second base,
the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction
of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third,
the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run
home." Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted
him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit
a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
"That
day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face,
"those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."
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