By: Jarrett Spaw
If baseball were easy every hop would be perfect…
If you’re reading this more than likely you know the rest of that poem but it’s true, baseball is a lot like life. It’s not easy but it can teach you things about yourself in ways this wonderful world cannot.
I am a 33-year-old goofball and while my life currently does not revolve around this beautiful game it has always been a part of who I am. One of the first pictures I’ve ever seen of myself I was wearing a Braves hat that was ten times too big. It was given to me by my Uncle Mike and Pop Pops who absolutely brainwashed me into learning anything and everything about this magical little world between two chalk lines.
When I was asked to sit down and write this, I started thinking of everything I’ve ever learned from this game. Whether it was watching the good old days of TBS chopping along or out on the local fields of the PYAA. I learned the terms of squish the bug, pick the apple from the tree, personal favorite alligator!!! To anyone reading this that has never played ball those terms mean absolutely nothing to you. But for us lucky few hundred million those terms bring back more memories than anyone could ever take account for.
Growing up I would spend countless hours thinking about and begging to “PLAY BALL”. My family events would usually end in someone having to hit grounders to me or having a game of catch or playing some kind of made-up game revolving around a bat and ball. My favorite memories as a kid of sitting in a little sunroom on W. County Line Rd. watching the team of the 90s with my Pop Pops eating tomato and cheese sandwiches and a bowl of ice cream with Granny in the seventh-inning. On those nights where they were trailing in the eighth or ninth inning I would look at Pop Pops as he would say “come on, they might come back they might pull through” before he’d cut it off….and what do you know some of those nights they actually did.
Fast forward a little bit I met my best friend at 4 years old and his dad basically become my second dad that I would call coach for almost every year growing up playing Little League. Those were great times, we won championships and other times that I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn or throw the ball to save my life. I struck out, I hit Little League homers, I dropped my elbow and popped it high into the sky. I remember one season that I was nicknamed “human pin cushion” because I like to stand a little too close to the plate.
Then in my early teen years I had some health issues that took me away from the game and I remember being so angry about it. I remember thinking I’ll never make it to the majors; I’ll never take over for Chipper Jones at third base and I’ll never get to play a kid’s game for the rest of my life.
Now that last part does sound a bit dramatic but if you knew me well it would make sense. I had found out through testing, scans and doctors that I had experienced multiple strokes, the first one was actually prenatal that was un-detected. But being someone who loved the game so much I stubbornly found ways to continue to play and worked my way back to being able to play as often as I could all throughout life into my twenties and luckily 30s… and I gotta say… I believe it was the motivation I needed to overcome those imperfections of my life. Maya Angelou once said “I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.”
In life I’ve had ups and downs, I’ve had championship moments and last place finishes that have nothing to do with the diamond. I’ve had friendships have lasted 29 years and I’ve met people once that I still keep in touch with because baseball taught me, we learn something from every at bat, ground ball, cut off throw and every hit by pitch. Between my belief in God and my love for the game I’ve always found a way to understand the world around me. Sometimes I just have to go out to a field and step between the lines. It’s almost like everything else outside of it completely disappears like in the movie For the Love of The Game. Billy Chapel a.k.a. Kevin Costner would “say clear the mechanism” and the world around him would fade away and it was just him and the catcher’s mitt. I can tell you I had already experienced that scene in real life.
Life today I don’t get to put on the cleats as often as I’d like. During the season you can catch me watching or listening to as many Braves and other big games every night. Not because I don’t have anything else to do but because it reminds me of everything I’ve learned and everything I’ve been through.
I’ve lost both my Uncle Mike and Pop Pops over the last 10 years. But I still have that hat they gave me 33 years ago as well as a million other hats, jerseys, game balls and other collectibles. In 2021 our beloved Atlanta Braves had an absolute magical run. I was extremely fortunate to be able to attend a World Series game to chop and cheer the Bravos on, with 2 incredible friends. We drove back home for the last two games of the series where I watched one with Granny. That brought back so many memories of bowls of ice cream and lessons learned growing up. In the final game of that series, I watched at home alone, wrapped in a flag that had been passed down and a picture of Pop Pops next to me. When we won tears started flowing, even though I wasn’t on the field like I always wanted to, there’s something about passion, life and baseball that go hand-in-hand.
To wrap this up when I was asked me what does baseball mean to me? Well, everything. I mentioned my faith but I will tell you that I have two books that I try to live my life by… one has red letters, the other has blue lines but both can teach you everything about life because every hop is not perfect.
I got to go now, I’m craving my favorite meal…tomato and cheese sandwich and a bowl of ice cream……
How can you not be romantic about baseball!