For My New Followers: Forgiveness

I wrote this a couple of years ago on my old webpage. Every now and then, or at least when the baseball season starts up again, I like to fix it up and re-post it. It is my favourite post, and even though I wrote about better things since then, I like reading it over every year just because the message is so true ^_^ This is not only for my new followers, but also to those who follow my blog and the "I AM NOT GIRL CRAZY" series may not be their cup of tea. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Remember your greatest mistake, your most embarrassing moment, or a moment in time you wish to erase or redo. Picture it happening in your mind again, and then again. Now, picture your family, friends, indifferent strangers, enemies, and millions of other people all over the world watching that same mistake you made.

Now picture this...

At the moment, there is anger because Armando Galarraga did not get what he "earned" through 8 2/3 innings of solid pitching. He "deserved" or "earned" the rewards that come from hard work, second effort, and loyalty to a cause. However, as is in life, most people on this planet do not get those things as rewards for their hard work or loyalty. Should baseball be the exception?

There are facebook groups dedicated to the ridicule of the man, who accidentally and apologetically, took the rewards away from Galarraga. The insults and the photos are an unfair smearing of a man that devoted his life and his energy to the game; some, if not all of what is said on Facebook and other websites by 'bloggers' and 'pundits', is too embarrassing and shameful for words.

I remember when my Dad umpired games here in Canada; he umpired a host of baseball and softball games in his community throughout the 80s and 90s, and he still has the gear and rulebooks in the garage of his house in Mississauga. He told me of a textbook tag at second base he ruled safe, when the world and everyone in it knew the runner was out. He lost his passion to umpire afterward, because the memory of that one moment took the fun away from umpiring. When I remember that story, I think of how I would act in that position. How would I react? What would I do?

Galarraga reacted like any of us would at that moment, but unlike any of us he accepted it with the grace and calm that only he could. After all, name another pitcher on the verge of perfection who had the rug snatched from underneath his feet? Neither could I. Perhaps there is a lesson all of us could learn from this experience. Not about instant replay, coach's challenges, base sensors, or electronic strike zones, because those regulate, not terminate, our frustrations with life.

Baseball hinges on the foul lines of fairness and controversy, the wrong call, the irate managers, and the umpteen million dollar a year third baseman from the Yankees my friend Ana hates so much. However, we still love the game, and we go for the unfairness, controversy, irate managers, and overpaid all-stars on THAT team. What is more, life is about unfairness, too, and yet we still wake up everyday and live each day for different reasons. Do we "deserve" perfection, the right call, sneakers, public transportation, and televisions preloaded with five hundred channels? Do we "deserve" a roof over our heads, food, water, or life? If so, for whom, over whom, or by whose authority?
Now picture this...

What Armando Galarraga and umpire Jim Joyce taught us is even when our intentions were good, we will fail. If each of us lives with the desire to see the best for everyone, then what would our planet, our cities, our neighbourhoods, and our lives resemble? What if we spent less time thinking about what we "deserve" and more time figuring out how to "bless" each other with what we have? If we had the capacity to forgive or be forgiven, what would our lives look like?

Probably, we would all be safe at home.