By the way, the Softball Classic has come and gone. One week ago today, we were hours away from waking up and heading over to Laderman Park for the Ninth Annual Safe At Home Softball Classic.
It was… incredible. The event seems to always be filled with fun, laughter, and things like that, but two things really stood out to me this year.
Number One, I left the park extremely humbled. So many people tirelessly helped us all throughout the day. It was just amazing to see the joy in people’s faces as they were freely giving of their time. The reason I feel so humbled is I know there is no way that we could accomplish this on our own. But what a beautiful thing it is when people just get together and all pitch in for the same thing! Acts 20:35 is so, so true:
…remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’
Number Two, I finally realized what the Classic is all about. Trying to explain the event to someone, I can’t really find the words. I can try to say, “Well, it’s this event where my family softball team plays against other teams, and sometimes Cardinals make it out there.” When I say this, I think it almost sounds a little self-centered, as if I’m telling people, “Hey, come watch me perform!”
A long time ago, Dad started referring to the Softball Classic as a “slice of heaven.” I finally understand what he means by that. Initially when I hear that term, I think that that’s an awfully lofty statement to make about our little silly softball event at a city park. After experiencing this year, though, I can see how that description fits.
There is something in the air on Softball Classic day, and it’s hard to describe it. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel like I’m a great salesman for the Classic, because I feel like you just have to be at the park to “get” what the event is all about. It’s finally becoming clear to me what makes the Classic the Classic. It’s more than the Cardinals, and it’s more than our softball games. There’s something else going on.
Somehow, for that one day a year, Laderman Park becomes a safe area. That’s the best way I can think of explaining it. People feel safe. Not just physically safe, but safe to be… real. I don’t know why it is, but people seem to let their guard down. They’re not afraid to be silly, to smile, to laugh. They just have a good time, and they’re not too busy worrying whether or not what they’re doing is officially cool.
It really must be a tiny glimpse of heaven. Everybody is still unique, is still very much themself. Yet… something is different. People seem to feel free to be real. They don’t sense the need to impress you.
One example that made a tremendous impact on me is “Greg,” this guy we’ve known a long time through playing softball. Around the men’s league, Greg is known to be a real fiery guy — getting in fights, arguing with people, not always the most pleasant person to play against. What’s more is a few weeks ago, he was actually the umpire in a game, and he got into a very heated argument with the other umpire! It’s the first time I ever saw anything like it. (By the way, in a situation like that, who would eject who??)
So Greg isn’t really your most mushy kind of guy. Anyway, as Paul was looking for volunteers to umpire in our first-ever coed softball tournament, Greg was happy to volunteer and even helped recruit other umps. But here’s what happened last Sunday that just floored me.
Greg arrives at Laderman around 2:30 or 3:00. I’m running around, trying to take care of some last-minute video stuff, and I run into him. Right off the bat, he’s really excited about the event, talking about how great it is, and he seems really eager to start umpiring the games.
Fast-forward eight (eight) hours. It’s now 11:15 or so, and the event has just ended. Greg has just finished an afternoon of umpiring games. Pretty much eight straight hours of standing around, umping games! So he comes up to me, and I figure he has got to be beat! In fact, who could blame him if he was even kind of grumpy, eager to get home? Maybe he didn’t realize what he was getting himself into, and he just wanted to get the heck out of the park as soon as it was over.
Well, Greg comes up to me and is as eager and giddy as he was eight hours ago. In fact, he’s even all the more emphatic about how great the event is. One of his highlights was when he got to pelt John with some water balloons. For a 30- or 40-something guy to be really excited about throwing water balloons, you know something is up!
Anyway, I was just thanking him up and down for being such a trouper, for umping those games. But get this — he asks where Dad is, because Greg wants to thank Dad! Now, how does this make sense? How in the world would he feel thankful for this? He just finished eight hours of umpiring without getting a penny! He didn’t even get to see much of Dave McKay’s appearance or of our softball games, as he was on the other fields most of the time, taking care of the tournament.
Yet he walks away from the event as excited and eager as ever! I just couldn’t believe that, after all of that, Greg was walking around the park, looking for Dad, just so he could thank him for all of this.
So that just amazed me. I know it’s got to be a God thing. It’s not us. It’s not the Cardinals. It’s not softball. It must be God just kind of touching the park, making people feel safe there. For that day, you don’t need to keep up any act. The cussin’-and-drinkin’-softball-player front suddenly isn’t as cool as it once was. Nobody is telling Greg, “Hey, listen here. This is a Christian event, so we’re going to have to keep it tame today, okay?” There was no need for that. What we had to offer was more appealing than that.
There are so many other people who, for that day, almost became another person. When I talked to Mark about it, he brought up a great point. It’s not like people are truly acting like different people. They’re being themselves, yet it’s subtracting the fronts that they tend to put on. Greg was still 100% Greg, but it was just Greg minus the tough-guy act. Somehow, he didn’t feel it necessary to bring that with him. And because of that, you would think he had the time of his life… by serving all day.
After witnessing so many “conversions” like that last week, I totally agree with Dad. This must be a small hint of what heaven is like. You are still you, yet without the sin, the insecurities, the peer pressure. You just feel safe to be 100% you.