FEAR STRIKES OUT
When I was around 7 or 8 years old, I played baseball in a “minor league,” (not quite Little League). I don’t remember anything about it, except for one at bat at the end of a game. As I recall, the game was in the balance, and the opposing pitcher was walking a lot of batters. Possibly he had walked the bases loaded, which wouldn’t have been uncommon in that league. Anyway, I must have made up my mind that this pitcher was going to walk me as well, because after the count went to 3 and 2, I took a pitch right down the middle for strike three. Now why, you may be asking, do I still remember this, over sixty years later? Because it bothered me. A lot. It bothered me because I didn’t even swing. I took the easy way out. I didn’t even try to hit it. And I think on some level that day, I decided that I’d rather go down swinging than ever feel like that again. There have been several times in my life that I’ve had opportunities to venture out in some area. To try something I’ve never ...