“Not Showy—Just Shohei”

A Childhood Favorite

... From backyard garages to big-league grace — how one humble superstar rekindled a boyhood love of
baseball.

At nearly seventy years of age, I’ve learned there are few pastimes that can still make my heart race like a nine-year-old’s. Well—other than God’s own pastime of creation, of course. But somehow, baseball seems to have preceded even that.

My love affair with America’s pastime began fifty-eight years ago, on a dusty little alley behind our home in Hawthorne, California. Today there’s a Target on Rosecrans Avenue. Back then, I had a target—a garage door that served faithfully as my catcher. There I stood, sweat trickling down my nine-year-old brow, squinting in for the sign from Johnny Roseboro. Every pitch was the potential third strike of a World Series dream. And who was I? None other than Sandy Koufax himself.

I’d go on to become a Pirate, then—be still, my heart—a Dodger. Number 12, first base for this southpaw (left-handed) kid. I loved scooping those low throws, or stretching for the wild throw from my third-baseman. But... oh baby... those diving catches in centerfield... they were something special! My teenage years took me through the ranks: a Colt, a Cardinal, and even a Cowboy. Later, as an adult, I wore the uniforms of the Warrior, the Senator, the Angel, and—yes—the Red Sox, with whom we won the Oregon State Men’s Senior League title in 1993. I was thirty-seven then; they called it “Senior League.” I laugh—Now thirty years later... indeed, I'm a "Senior".

~ 1993 Silverton Red Sox ~

What drew me in? The smell of the leather glove. The pop of the ball. The sweet perfume of freshly mown grass on a California spring day. The beauty of a perfectly turned double play. I dreamt baseball. I lived baseball. I knew the players, the rules, and the unspoken poetry that made the game so deeply American.

More than anything, baseball taught me confidence—and sportsmanship. Over the years, I summed up my approach to every sport with an acronym I created:

 SPORT – Say it Best, Play it Best, Offer the Best, Respond the Best, Teach the Best. And for my Spanish-speaking friends: MEJOR – Muestra tu Mejor, Enseña tu Mejor, Juega tu Mejor, Ofrece tu Mejor, Responde tu Mejor.

Then, as with most good things, life—and the world—changed. Somewhere along the way, the game lost a bit of its soul to politics, posturing, and pageantry. For nearly fifteen years, my connection to baseball dwindled to a few college games—mainly my 3x College World Series Champs... the Oregon State Beavers—just enough to keep the spark alive.

But lately, that spark is back. A handful of players have reminded me of what baseball can be—grace, grit, humility, and joy all wrapped in a 95 (or 100)-mph fastball. And the splitters... Yikes! So thank you, Clayton Kershaw, Freddie Freeman, Mike Trout, Cal Raleigh, and especially Shohei Ohtani—perhaps indeed... the GOAT... the greatest of all time.

Thank you, Shohei, for not being Showy. For reminding us that greatness can still walk hand-in-hand with grace. And that’s exactly what we teach our Xolos ballplayers: play with heart, play with honor, and always—play your best. 

 The only thing better for this video... Vin Scully making the call. Just saying! :)

 

And... Please feel free to leave a comment :)