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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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