I Do the Very Thing I Hate
I vividly remember one of the dumbest things I ever did in my baseball playing days. I was on the high school's varsity team, but I can't remember if I was a junior or a senior at the time. I'd have to leave the judgment to others, but I like to think I was an above average player by the time I was a senior. By no means am I saying I was one of the best--far from it. But my senior year I did hit over .300 (which, is less impressive than it sounds if you're only familiar with MLB), I think closer to .330 or .340. Also, I let my team in hit by pitches.
The HBPs are an indication of why, to whatever extent I was good, I was good. I didn't have the most talent, but I played hard and played smart. Which is probably why this moment in particular sticks out so much.
I was on second base with two outs, and the batter hit one to the gap. Now, as I said, I didn't have much natural skill, but I was fast. And I was a good baserunner. Only one time in my life was I picked off a base, and I guarantee you I was safe. The ump was in a bad position and he didn't see that I dove to the back of the bag. I think this was VFW ball, when I was like 15 or so. I also knew how to take the angles and to hit the bag right at the corner to prevent slowing down and to keep my momentum going. I also was very good at takeoutslides. MLB is trying to police them today, but essentially takeoutslides are when you are going into a base and try to prevent the fielder from getting off a good throw, if any, to another base. The point is to prevent a double play. Back in my AOL days, "Takeoutslide" was my screen name. I love doing it, and a shortstop once was about to fight me because I took him down hard. What I'm saying is the thing I did best was baserunning.
So again, I'm at secondbase with two outs when the ball is hit into the gap. I was going to score easily, but as I rounded third base, I missed the bag.
We're taught that if you do that, just go back to the bag. Better to not get the extra base than to be out on an appeal. But that's not what I did, but I didn't keep running either. As I missed the bag, I realized what happened, and hesitated. I might even have paused enough so that I started leaning back to third base. But instead of actually going back to the bag, I ran home. Naturally, everyone saw me hesitate and the other team's coach appealed and the ump called me out. Inning over.
The head coach, who also coached third, asked if I missed the bag. I said "no" and made up some lame excuse. Something maybe like tripping, or looking for the ball is why I hesitated. He argued with the ump a bit, but it was the pitching coach, the coach I respected more than the others who looked at me and knew the truth. He asked why I didn't go back to the bag, and I repeated my lie of not missing the bag. He knew, though.
A couple years later I admitted to that coach that I missed the bag and knew it, but didn't return to the bag like I was supposed to. He obviously knew, and asked why I lied about it. I said I didn't know, and that I guess I just knew how dumb it was to begin with.
In Romans 7:15-20, Paul writes:
Paul is writing about much weightier matters. He's talking about not being able to sin, even when we desire not to. This is a problem because the sin dwells within us. We cannot eradicate all the sin in our lives. We cannot earn heaven through being good. Nothing can change the outcome of my baserunning blunder, but Jesus Christ can draw us away from sin in this life, and cleanses us from sin for eternity.
The HBPs are an indication of why, to whatever extent I was good, I was good. I didn't have the most talent, but I played hard and played smart. Which is probably why this moment in particular sticks out so much.
I was on second base with two outs, and the batter hit one to the gap. Now, as I said, I didn't have much natural skill, but I was fast. And I was a good baserunner. Only one time in my life was I picked off a base, and I guarantee you I was safe. The ump was in a bad position and he didn't see that I dove to the back of the bag. I think this was VFW ball, when I was like 15 or so. I also knew how to take the angles and to hit the bag right at the corner to prevent slowing down and to keep my momentum going. I also was very good at takeoutslides. MLB is trying to police them today, but essentially takeoutslides are when you are going into a base and try to prevent the fielder from getting off a good throw, if any, to another base. The point is to prevent a double play. Back in my AOL days, "Takeoutslide" was my screen name. I love doing it, and a shortstop once was about to fight me because I took him down hard. What I'm saying is the thing I did best was baserunning.
So again, I'm at secondbase with two outs when the ball is hit into the gap. I was going to score easily, but as I rounded third base, I missed the bag.
We're taught that if you do that, just go back to the bag. Better to not get the extra base than to be out on an appeal. But that's not what I did, but I didn't keep running either. As I missed the bag, I realized what happened, and hesitated. I might even have paused enough so that I started leaning back to third base. But instead of actually going back to the bag, I ran home. Naturally, everyone saw me hesitate and the other team's coach appealed and the ump called me out. Inning over.
The head coach, who also coached third, asked if I missed the bag. I said "no" and made up some lame excuse. Something maybe like tripping, or looking for the ball is why I hesitated. He argued with the ump a bit, but it was the pitching coach, the coach I respected more than the others who looked at me and knew the truth. He asked why I didn't go back to the bag, and I repeated my lie of not missing the bag. He knew, though.
A couple years later I admitted to that coach that I missed the bag and knew it, but didn't return to the bag like I was supposed to. He obviously knew, and asked why I lied about it. I said I didn't know, and that I guess I just knew how dumb it was to begin with.
In Romans 7:15-20, Paul writes:
For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but the sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.I loved baseball so much when I was a kid. I still love it, but not like then. It's all that consumed me. I lived for the game and I knew how to play it. Yet in this moment, I did exactly what I was not supposed to do. And to this day that moment haunts me. I probably think about it at least once a month, and it was like 15 years ago. And it's just baseball!
Paul is writing about much weightier matters. He's talking about not being able to sin, even when we desire not to. This is a problem because the sin dwells within us. We cannot eradicate all the sin in our lives. We cannot earn heaven through being good. Nothing can change the outcome of my baserunning blunder, but Jesus Christ can draw us away from sin in this life, and cleanses us from sin for eternity.
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