Tag Archives: Memories

Growing up, I loved sports.

As an adult, I still love sports.

But when I was growing up, I didn’t just enjoy watching sports with my dad on a Sunday afternoon. I actually played sports. I’ll never claim to have been very good. There’s a reason why I never played sports at a high school or college level. I learned early on that I have many gifts. But athletic talent is not among them.

Even so, I had my share of highlights and lowlights while playing sports as a kid. For the most part, I played baseball. That made a lot of sense. My dad was a huge baseball fan. He’d watch baseball with me on many summer afternoons while I was an infant. And some of my earliest memories involve playing catch in our backyard.

While I wasn’t overly strong or athletic, I was good in some areas. I could catch better than most kids my age. I could also throw the ball a lot more accurately than most kids with stronger arms. That ensured that, even if I didn’t make the all-star team, I would never be the worst player on any team I played on.

I managed to maintain that level from my earliest days playing T-ball to when I played single-A for one season. In that time, I made my share of plays. I also had my share of bad games, including one where I didn’t get a single hit and never got on base once.

However, among those bad games and mediocre games that I’ve long since forgotten, there is one memory from my little league baseball career that still stands out. It is, by far, my proudest moment from my limited tenure playing sports.

Since I know my dad and relatives occasionally read this site, there’s a good chance they already know which moment I’m about to recount. I still don’t think they fully appreciate just how powerful this memory is for me. Because for a single moment, I was the most clutch player on the field. And in the span of a single play, I single-handedly won a game for my team.

To set the stage, this occurred while I was playing my little league team, the Pirates. That was the team I’d been on for years. My dad was good friends with the coach. And he frequently assisted with managing games. That mattered because I think my coach and my dad helped our team be better than our collective talent. We were probably the second or third best team among our peers that year. It was probably the best team I’d ever been on.

But the team we were playing was every bit as good as us, if not better. They were the Marlins. And for the most part, they were our equals in terms of talent and competence. They hit just as well as us. They fielded just as well as us. But they also had on their team this kid who was about six inches taller than any other kid. I don’t know if that kid was just naturally tall or a couple years older. But he definitely made his presence felt throughout that game.

The game was still close from start to finish. My team got up early by a couple runs. But the Marlins caught up and even took the lead at one point in the fourth inning. Since we only played six inning games at this level, we had limited chances left.

But we made the most of those chances. At the top of the sixth and final inning, two of our best hitters drew in a couple runs. That put us ahead by a score of 4 to 3. I didn’t get a hit during that rotation. But I was also playing first base on defense for that inning. It wasn’t my usual position. But since I could catch better than most, it was probably the best position I could’ve been in at that moment.

It ended up being key in terms of how the bottom of the sixth played out in that game.

It started off promising with a ground out. But then, the best hitters on the team came up and they delivered. The first shot right by the short stop for a double. The second happened to be that tall kid I mentioned earlier. He hit a bouncing ball towards second that ended up being a single. My teammate could not gather it in time to make a play.

So, that left runners on first and third. And with only two outs remaining, the Marlins could’ve easily tied the game with a simple fly ball. They could even win it with a line drive. In nearly any other circumstances in a little league game at this level, the game was either going to be tied or won by whichever team was batting.

But on this particular day, that’s not how it played out.

The kid at bat got behind the count. I’m already bracing for a tie or loss at this point. I’m just trying not to let it show. The big kid on base was grinning. I think he expected to be the winning run. He didn’t say anything, but I could sense what he was thinking.

Then, it happened. On an inside fastball, the kid got a hit and the ball flew right at me. Instinctively, the big kid at first started running, as did the kid at third. But I managed to get right under the ball at just the right moment to catch it. And as soon as I did, the runners tried to run back. But it was too late. My foot was already on first. And I made sure to tag the big kid running right back towards me.

The look of shock on his face is something I’ll never forget.

From my perspective, it happened so quickly that I barely had time to think about it. I liken it to one of those moments in sports where your brain goes into a different mode and you just act. Call it The Zone. Call it clutch mentality. Call it whatever you want. But in that moment, I had it. And in that single play, I gave my team the final two outs that sealed our win.

That didn’t initially register at first, even as my dad, coach, and teammate started cheering. Even when I realized what had happened, I still didn’t believe it. I’d actually won the game for my team on what a fluky, yet clutch play. It was, by far, the greatest play I’d ever made for any sport at any level. It didn’t matter that it was just a little league game with limited stakes with a bunch of kids my age.

I still won the game for my team.

I still made the play that needed to be made when it mattered most.

I never made a play that big again. And I didn’t continue playing little league for much longer after that year. But even if I was never going to play baseball in the big leagues, for one single day in my life, I could say without reservation that I single-handedly won a game for my team. For one day, I felt like a true champion.

It’s a special feeling that’s truly unique to sports, regardless of age or level. And even if that was the peak of my little league career, I’ll always treasure that feeling.