Post by glasspoet on Jan 9, 2012 15:31:47 GMT -5
This is an article I read decades ago in a Playboy (or one of those mags). I think I remember it because of the moral.
"There was a young pitcher who threw harder than anyone in history. He was kinda wild, but everyone speculated he would learn control as he went. In his first year he hit a ballplayer in the head and killed him. His manager let him skip a start to grieve. After that his control got better and he became one of the better pitchers in the league; but in his 3rd year he hit another batter in the helmet and killed him."
"Outrage followed, leading to his suspension. Then a writer (this one) wrote an article about the unfairness of the situation. Afterwards there was a push to re-instate him. He should not be so punished for accidents beyond his control. After two years absence he returned to pitch again. Upon his return he blossomed -- winning 4 Cy Youngs consecutively. Then he hit another batter square in the helmet and killed another ballplayer. He promptly retired at a still relatively young age."
It turns out the writer of the article had built up a strong friendship with the pitcher. In fact he was currently standing in his friend's house after dinner, admiring and fingering that pitcher's awards, news articles--including his new Hall of Fame plaque, while his friend sat across the room immersed behind a newspaper, checking out the latest baseball scores.
His friend had never let out even a remark about his life. The writer thought maybe now, years later, it would a good time to ask him how he felt about his career--so different than any other pitcher. So he did--"my friend, if you don't mind me asking now, how did you persevere through such tragic circumstances?"
The pitcher slowly lowered the newspaper until he could look the writer directly in the eye--and said "I couldn't let them crowd the plate, now could I?"
"There was a young pitcher who threw harder than anyone in history. He was kinda wild, but everyone speculated he would learn control as he went. In his first year he hit a ballplayer in the head and killed him. His manager let him skip a start to grieve. After that his control got better and he became one of the better pitchers in the league; but in his 3rd year he hit another batter in the helmet and killed him."
"Outrage followed, leading to his suspension. Then a writer (this one) wrote an article about the unfairness of the situation. Afterwards there was a push to re-instate him. He should not be so punished for accidents beyond his control. After two years absence he returned to pitch again. Upon his return he blossomed -- winning 4 Cy Youngs consecutively. Then he hit another batter square in the helmet and killed another ballplayer. He promptly retired at a still relatively young age."
It turns out the writer of the article had built up a strong friendship with the pitcher. In fact he was currently standing in his friend's house after dinner, admiring and fingering that pitcher's awards, news articles--including his new Hall of Fame plaque, while his friend sat across the room immersed behind a newspaper, checking out the latest baseball scores.
His friend had never let out even a remark about his life. The writer thought maybe now, years later, it would a good time to ask him how he felt about his career--so different than any other pitcher. So he did--"my friend, if you don't mind me asking now, how did you persevere through such tragic circumstances?"
The pitcher slowly lowered the newspaper until he could look the writer directly in the eye--and said "I couldn't let them crowd the plate, now could I?"