Jude and I are blessed, in every way, as it relates to our boys. Unquestionably. Occasionally, though, we're reminded that are boys are human and not perfect. And you know what? That's as it should be.
Last Thursday, MBA's JV baseball squad played Ensworth, a team they soundly defeated earlier in the season. With a 6-2 lead, JP was batting in the later stages of the game. The first pitch from Ensworth's second pitcher was a slow curve, clearly inside, that the umpire mistakenly called a strike.
JP, who has been scuffling at the plate the last few games, didn't like the call. He stepped out of the box and shook his head slowly. Then, much to my surprise, he tapped the end of his bat on the turf well inside of home plate three or four times, clearly pointing out to the umpire and everyone watching the path he thought the ball took to the catcher's mitt, well off home plate.
And then all hell broke loose.
The umpire, a tall, imperious man who played offensive line for Boots Donnelly at Austin Peay State University in the mid-70's, ripped off his mask and immediately confronted JP.
"Don't you do that!" Les bellowed.
"What?" JP replied.
"You know what you did! I know what you did!" Les continued, voice raised in anger.
At that point, genuinely mortified that things had turned on him so quickly, JP mumbled "I can't believe this." JP didn't mean it disrespectfully. He was stunned by what had happened.
"You better believe it! Step out and talk to your coach because I'm about to run you!" Les replied.
At that point, JP stepped completely out of the batter's box. The crowd murmured quietly and a feeling of unease and disquiet settled over us. Coach Anderson encouraged JP and still somewhat bewildered, he stepped back in the batter's box.
While I hoped JP was going to get mad and rip a single back up the middle, I knew that wasn't what was likely to happen. JP doesn't like to be the center of attention, particularly for the wrong reasons, and he was completely flummoxed by the intensity of Les's reaction and the fact that he came within an eyelash of ejecting JP, one of the quietest players on MBA's JV baseball team.
Ensworth's pitcher, and auburn haired heavyset boy, threw two more curve balls, both of which JP flailed at helplessly. Strike two. Strike three. JP staggered back, to the first base dugout, completely lost. I felt for him. I really did because I knew he was embarrassed by the whole incident.
Keep in mind, of course, this is the same boy who was one of two members of his class elected to the Honor Council at MBA the day before. I knew all of that, and more, was going through his mind as he walked back to the dugout.
What happened with Les was out of character for JP. Anyone who knows him knows that to be a fact. However, I knew he was pressing at the plate and I could sense his frustration building the day before, at Father Ryan, when he struck out looking at a called third strike.
Now, here's the good part. As I predicted in a conversation with Boots Donnelly between innings, when the game ended JP popped out of the dugout and walked straight up to Les to catch him before he left the field. As I watched with tears in my eyes, Les put his arm around JP and talked with him for five minutes or so. They shared a private moment as JP's teammates lined up and walked across the infield to congratulate Ensworth on a well played baseball game.
It was a moment I will never forget.
I was more proud of JP than at any point this season, as I watched him in quiet conversation with Les, who is an excellent umpire and, really, a role model for our boys.
When he arrived home after the game, JP and I talked about what had happed before I hustled off to the class at teach at Nashville School Law on Thursday evenings. We agreed he had learned a valuable lesson, one better learned late in the season of a JV game than in a tournament game as a junior or senior.
Unbeknownst to JP, I snapped a quick photo after the game while he was talking with Les. If ever a picture was worth a thousand words, it's this one.
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