I grew up in a family that valued the arts. Although my dad was a loyal Dodgers baseball fan, I never attended a baseball game until I married a devoted Giants fan. I attended USC as an undergraduate and prided myself in going to only one football game; I found it dreadfully boring. While enrolled at the University of California, San Francisco in 1989, the university celebrated its 25th anniversary of becoming the ninth campus in the UC system and the only one devoted to the health sciences. Their slogan was, 25 years and still no sports. When my son, Peter, begged to quit studying piano at the age of eleven, I was disappointed but consoled myself with the fact that he was switching to another musical instrument, the drums. When he quit drums two years later and professed his love for baseball I silently grieved his decision to pursue a sport in lieu of an art form. As the years have passed Peter has grown to become passionate about playing, watching and following baseball. It is what feeds his soul. I have learned that baseball has been instrumental in shaping my 15-year-old son into the person he is today and the man he will become in the future. He has learned what it means to be a person of character and integrity and the importance of sacrificing for the good of a larger entity. He is learning how to accept successes humbly and failures with grace. Giving up is never an option and perseverance is Peter’s motto. At Decatur High, Peter is a “pitcher-only”. This means that he only pitches a few innings 1-2 times a week. One day I asked Peter,” Don’t you get tired of just being in the dugout and not playing many games?” He replied, “Mom, it isn’t about me, it’s about the team.” I’m learning baseball’s life lessons too.
(Peter, in center above)