I wrote this back in 2014. I found myself thinking about the old neighborhood last night, I thought I would share it once more.
Drinking my cup of Door County White Christmas Coffee slowly today. I am taking in the aroma and the taste.
I was driving through the old neighborhood where I grew up yesterday. It was 7 below zero and everything was frozen to the maximum. The streets are the same but very few of the old businesses remain. The houses are a lot older now and the neighborhood is well worn. I stopped for a moment to look into a vacant lot that actually was vacant when I grew up. It was the 35th street Field of Dreams. It is where the kids in the neighborhood played pick up games of baseball or kickball. Hank Aaron played there, Babe Ruth knocked home runs out toward the water tower. Eddie Matthews made an appearance or two. Of course this was all in our minds. These were the guys we claimed to imitate when we played. As I sat there my mind went back and I could see all my friends in my memory. I could hear us all yelling and arguing with each other over a disputed bad call. "He was out". "No he wasn't". This would go on for awhile and then someone would say "Do Over!" Then everyone would return to their spot before the play and the pitch would be thrown and however the play ended was how it ended. 99% of the time the do over or our version of instant replay was the final verdict. Very seldom did we need two do overs. It was simple back then. We were just there to have fun. Wouldn't the world be a better place if we all stopped being so serious and realize that sometimes the best of friends get it wrong and all you need is a do over and then go on.
Ephesians 4:32 (ESV)
32 Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.
I still keep in touch with some of baseball's greatest from the 35th street Field of Dreams. You see none of us took ourselves that seriously on that field. An argument never lasted. It wasn't part of our game.
God bless,
Marty
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