A real triple.
Not a ball through the legs.
Outfielder kicks it.
And then throws the ball into the fence kinda triple.
But a real triple.
Screaming line drive to right-center field.
Ball rolls forever.
My son rounds first, second and hustles into third... triple.
The fact is he was blessed with my ability to hit.
I could always hit.
And he was also cursed with my genes.
My slow genes.
He has worked hard to remove the piano from his back.
And at this point, there are only a couple of black and white keys left.
I was told that for some kids his hit might’ve been a home run.
To that I say...
Last year it would’ve only been a double for my son.
Glass half full.
That’s me.
His new found speed was featured a moment later when he raced in from third to score on a wild pitch.
As he got close to the plate, he wanted to make sure that he avoided the tag.
So he dove head first.
That’s how they do it on the MLB Network.
Only he doesn’t know how to dive head first.
He only knows how to flop forward.
The best way to separate a shoulder.
And end a season.
I’ve politely explained that to him.
FOUR MILLION TIMES!
“And when you injure yourself, there won’t be anything you can do to change it.”
To get the full effect of how I phrase that to him, repeat the previous line.
(In your LOUDEST voice.)
(With your face beet red.)
(And feel free to add an expletive... or six.)
Still that hasn’t stopped him.
And it certainly didn’t stop him this time.
He ended up scoring that run.
A key run.
As we battled back to win our 16th straight game.
When he got back to dugout he was greeted by a bunch of high five’s.
And one angry parent.
I pulled him aside.
To talk in private.
That’s my style.
And I explained to him -- AGAIN -- that if he continues to slide face first.
Instead of feet first.
He will end up in a hospital bed.
That type of motivation came straight out of the Tony Robbins handbook.
Safety has always been my #1 concern.
I’m sure you could say at times I’m too safe.
(If that is possible.)
I’m the guy who wears a helmet during the team practice when I am asked to run the bases.
Hey, you never know.
And when it comes to my kids, there is nothing more important than keeping them safe.
One of the parents on our team is a doctor.
Not sure what kind of doctor.
Surgeon I think.
But like E.F. Hutton, when he speaks.
I listen.
Well a couple of years ago he spoke about this little safety thing that his child wears.
Just in case.
It’s called a heart guard.
Basically it's a t-shirt you wear under your uniform.
Lodged in the middle of the shirt is a six inch by six inch piece of something.
The ad says it’s a high density polyethylene dome.
To me, it’s a hard piece of plastic.
A big, clumpy, I’m sure uncomfortable piece of plastic.
In baseball terms it's a cup for your heart.
It is there for one reason.
In the extremely rare scenario that the ball hits you in the chest.
This shirt is built to protect you.
The way the good doctor described it to us is that a line drive to the wrong place.
At the wrong time.
Could kill you.
Period.
That was enough for me.
We went out the next day and spent the $30 -- or whatever it was -- and my son has been wearing it since.
Just like maybe half the team.
I’ve been playing and watching baseball for all my life.
And fortunately I’ve never seen someone get killed on the field.
Unfortunately there is a group in Winslow, Arizona that can’t say the same.
Last Tuesday night, 13-year old Hayden Walton squared around to bunt.
He was looking to sacrifice for his team.
Unfortunately the sacrifice that was made was much bigger.
And much more tragic.
The pitch ended up hitting Hayden in the chest.
Right above the heart.
After he got hit, he took two steps towards first base.
And collapsed.
He was pronounced dead the next morning.
According to the wire story:
“Paramedics said Walton died from commotio cordis. After getting hit by the baseball, his heart gave out.”
Commotio Cordis is a disruption of heart rhythm that occurs as a result of a blow to the area directly over the heart at a critical time during the cycle of a heart beat.
I have no idea if Hayden was wearing a heart guard.
I would only be guessing.
And I have no idea if the heart guard would have done its job.
I’m not certainly not qualified to say.
But what I can say is I am a dad.
And like every dad I know, I would do ANYTHING for my kids.
Before every game my son puts on his socks.
And his jock.
And his belt.
And his heart guard.
It’s part of his uniform now.
And he won’t play without it.
That’s a game we can't afford to lose.
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