The Last Out

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the end of things.  

As Joe finishes 6th grade in less than 30 days, our family's time at University School of Nashville will end.  11 years in total between JP and Joe.  Really good years, too, at a place where our boys have been nurtured and seen.  It's been quite a run.

Although it's been in the works for a while, Harris Baseball Club and Harris Training are coming to an end.  The boys have played travel baseball for HBC the last few years.  Brian's lease ended and the building was sold, as a result of which the facility on Wilhagen Road, off Murfreesboro Road, where the boys have trained and practiced so many times, is closing.  

JP's baseball season ends this weekend with the junior varsity tournament.  Although you never know, it's quite possible JP's won't play competitive baseball again after this weekend.  As I've written, that's a bitter pill for me to swallow in so many ways.  It's almost unfathomable for me to imagine a spring or summer when JP is not playing baseball.  

Yesterday was the last game of the regular season for JP's team.  A home game vs. Brentwood Academy.  He started and played centered field.  In his only at bat, he struck out.  What was really cool, though, was that JP got to pitch in a key spot.  

I was so happy for him because he hasn't pitched much at all the last couple of years, playing on the junior varsity team.  It's been an adjustment for him, and for me, since he's always been a pitcher.  A good one, too.  Great control although not a ton of velocity.  The 75 pitch complete game he threw in a 1-0 loss to David Lipscomb in the last tournament game as an 8th grader was a game I will never forget.  

Yesterday, Coach Anderson brought him in from center field to pitch in the top of the 4th inning, with runners on second and third and one out.  On a 2-1count, Brentwood Academy called a suicide squeeze.  The hitter go the bunt down, which JP fielded as the run scored.  He whirled and threw to first for the out.  Brentwood Academy got greedy, however, and the runner who had been on second base was thrown out  by MBA's first baseman as he tried to score, too.

In the top of the 5th inning, JP gave up a single to right field on a sinking fly ball down the line.  The next batter punched a line drive just past Bennett at third base, who dove to his left but couldn't come up with the ball.  Pitching against the smallest ballplayer on either team, JP quickly got top 0-2, then left a fastball out over the plate.  The hitter lined it into right center field, tying the game up at 7-7.  JP got out of the inning with no more damage and, in the end, MBA won 9-7.  Solid win.

If it's the last regular season baseball game plays, it was a pretty good way to go out.  He played center field.  He batted.  He pitched.  JP always has been the ultimate utility player, Jose Oquendo style.  There is not position he cannot play.  He made the MBA middle school "A" team as a 7th grader solely because he could play catcher.  He wasn't a catcher but he could play catcher.

At Brentwood Academy on Tuesday, JP started in center field and in his first at bat, stayed back on a 1-2 curve ball and stroked it into right field for a hit.  Unfortunately, he was doubled off when he attempted to steal second on the first pitch and the batter popped up to the second baseman.  

The batter, of course, should have been taking the first pitch since JP was stealing but so it goes.  The baseball intellect on his team isn't the highest.  Perhaps that will change as the freshman get older and mature.  Perhaps it won't.  In baseball, it's the little things that matter.

What I loved the most and what almost made me cry, though, was watching JP hustle out with a catcher's mitt to warm up the pitcher in between innings after Coach Anderson removed him from the game earlier than I would have preferred after his base hit in the second inning.  JP loves baseball and above all else, he loves being part of a team.  He's a leader and the ultimate team player. 

Lately, I've been flooded - literally flooded - with memories of JP and baseball.  Throwing with him on the strip of grass at Mt. Gilead Baptist Church (gone now) across from our old house after dinner, before dark.  

Throwing batting practice to him in the cages at Harpeth Hills Church of Christ and Warner Park.

Running practices and coaching games for his team with Chris Taylor, Randy Kleinstick, Will Wright, and Tony Weeks.  I miss those days terribly and will cherish the memories forever.

Celebrating the 11U state championship with JP and the rest of the Dodgers in Lawrenceburg and smiling as JP was handed his all-tournament trophy.  

Hitting JP fungoes at Rose Park so many times.  Doing the same on the baseball field at Sewanee whenever we visited.  

Those memories are front and center this week along with so many more.  Too numerous to write about, really. 

Last Sunday, JP and Joe asked me to go with them to the facility (Harris Baseball Training) to throw some batting practice.  Of course, I went.  I did so, though, with a heavy heart, knowing that it might be my last time to throw batting practice to JP.  Brian has begun to dismantle and remove some of the gear there, which made me even more nostalgic for baseball days gone by.  

Spending an hour or so with JP and Joe, throwing batting practice and talking baseball, with no one else around.  Listening to reggae on the Brian's Turtle Box.  Just putting in some work.  It was, maybe, a perfect way to bookend so many years of baseball with JP.  I think the end of all of that is here, this week.

Last night in the first tournament game, JP didn't play against Ensworth.  I was disappointed, for him but not for me.  I want to go out playing, not sitting.  

Still, it was a fabulous game, a 4 - 2 MBA win that Aidan punctuated after the game ending strikeout by looking into the Ensworth dugout and furtively putting his index finger to his lips.  Just for an instant.  Shhhh.  No one saw it but me and I loved it because, as usual, the Ensworth dugout had been obnoxious. 

Incidentally, I sat beside and talked the entire game with the grandfather of Ensworth's center fielder (Cooper).  He's 78, a retired dentist and Detroit native.  He was in a wheelchair, as he's fighting pancreatic cancer.  It was such a blessing to sit with in and talk baseball.  The 1969 Tigers.  The 1984 Tigers.  World champions, both.  Life is beautiful at the most unexpected times.  His name is John and his daughter (Cooper's mother) is Stacy.  

When Chris Taylor texted me to see if JP was running in the Great Eight at David Lipscomb, I felt a little guilty for briefly wishing I was there, with JP, instead of watching a baseball game in which he wasn't playing.   

All good things must come to an end, I know.  Never say never, of course, but it's probably time.  

My life has been enriched beyond measure over the years by sharing the game of baseball with my sons.  God has blessed me with two boys who love baseball - and all sports, really - like I do.  What an incredible gift I've been given.  I wouldn't change a second of the time I've spent with JP, baseball gloves on our left hands.  Throwing.  Fielding.  Hitting.  Talking.  All of it, a gift.  

WNSL Dodgers forever.