Your Life's Footprint

The greatest legacy is that which benefits the widest number of people for the longest period without limit to value.  Cat Stevens

Baseball lost a great man today. Gary Carter succumbed to brain cancer at the age of 57. Best remembered for his contributions to the 1986 New York Mets and their World Series championship, he was a leader. But that is not why I write today. I write not to eulogize him. Instead I write because I am thinking of the legacy of life and the footprint we leave during our time on this terra firma.

Gary Carter had no impact on my life. However there are those that he did impact - friends, family, and teammates alike.

It can be quite humbling to think of one's impact on the world. Who will remember you when you are gone? What will they say? Some will have more influence on other people's lives than others, but no one leaves this world without making some sort of impact. To be a leader is to not only get people to follow you, but to understand the impact you have. You may not be aware of it, but it is happening. And this impact can last long after your respective lives have charted different courses. And this was the impact of Gary Carter. He was a man who did not participate in the wild living of his teammates, but instead walked the straight and narrow. It was years after that many of his teammates realized he was a man ahead of his time. They looked back fondly on the time they spent with him and realized the impact he had on their lives.

Three years ago I was blessed with the opportunity to begin coaching baseball. It was, in fact, my main motivation for beginning this blog. I've documented what I've learned a long the way and some of the experiences I've had. I've had the chance to teach and learn all at once. It can be somewhat humbling knowing that years down the road something I said or did may be remembered by one of the kids. I have no way of knowing if it will positively impact their lives the way Gary Carter did with the people he shared his life with, but I can only hope.

9/11 - how baseball helped heal a city

In the wake of the 9th anniversary of 9/11 I was reminded of the events and how they affected the baseball world. For 6 days play was suspended. Baseball was a distraction. And this was not a time to be distracted. When your heart is broken, try as you might to avoid it, nothing can distract you from the hurt. Regardless of where home was for us, on this day we were all Americans.

Baseball returned to play on September 17, 2001 but it wasn't until September 21st that baseball returned to New York with a game between the New York Mets and Atlanta Braves. (click on the link for a video tribute to that game) It was time for baseball to be a distraction again. It was time to begin the healing process and take a wounded nation away from the heartbreak, if but for a moment. What transpired was a game that will go down as a classic, if not stirring moment in the storied history of the game.

I'm not sure that any amount of writing I do can properly pay respect to the lives lost on that tragic day. What I can do though is tell you that how I will forever be moved by the sound of Ronan Tynan's rendition of God Bless America at Yankee Stadium. Let us all be grateful...

saying goodbye

For all the fun the general public has at the expense of professional athletes when we see them in tears announcing their retirement, it surely can't be easy. Consider for a minute, that this isn't a career they stepped into when they graduated university, this is their passion. A passion that has been growing since they were kids. Most athletes have been around their chosen game their entire lives. Many have known nothing but playing. Some see the end of their careers as they age and their skills naturally wane, others are blindsided by it with injury. Whatever their circumstance may be with the end comes change. And it is this change that they have the most trouble becoming acclimatized to. It is a break in a life long routine. A loss of identity of sorts.

The one common chord among all athletes is they played for one reason - the love of the game. If heartbreak and the loss of love bring tears, how is giving up your passion any different, even if was just a game?

Life After Sport? Counselling Professional Athletes Facing Retirement

the catharsis of losing

Losing is a strange animal. Where winning keeps you on a high, losing takes you to all sorts of different places. After the initial shock and frustration of yesterday's loss I sat there dazed and confused, thinking about many different things. This one did not sit well with me. Of course I thought about what if a few different things had gone our way, but more than that I thought about how losing is so much different than winning.

Losing it seems, can me more of a cathartic experience than winning. Amidst the disappoint it can clear your head and relieve the pressure of expectations. Sure, you still wrestle with the "what if's" but those fade and you are brought back to ground zero. Less is expected of you when you lose. Anyone who has ever competed can relate. Granted, anyone who has ever competed also welcomes the expectations winning brings, it can be how you deal with losing that makes you a winner.

The challenge with losing when you are older is that it seems to sting a little more because you know that your window of opportunity is slowly closing. You can't play forever. What were once tears when you were a kid when you lost, are now replaced with a gamut of emotions - frustration, disappointment, sadness, reflection, questioning...I could go on and on. I am well aware that being in the Canadian Little League Championships even as a coach might be the closest I get to realizing a childhood dream of playing in the Little League World Series. Will not making it there hurt? Yes. But win or lose, I will remember this one week forever.