There was something in him

that was out of control – his

arm.  He had been on his way –

Little League All Star, Kiwanis

All Star. His dad had worked

with him, hour after hour, on

his hitting, fielding and throwing

and then his dad just up and died.

Then in high school, he still hit

and fielded skillfully, but he could

no longer throw the ball straight

from left field, center field or

right. They put him on first base

where they thought he would

do the least damage and when

he couldn’t throw the ball from

first to home anymore, the coach,

back in the day, said the politically

incorrect thing: “Just roll it in,

girly.” For the next several years

he kept his life together, more

or less, and then he saw Steve

Sax, second baseman for the

Los Angeles Dodgers and

premier professional baseball

player, lose his throwing arm

and Steve couldn’t throw the

ball from second to first and

he wondered what Steve

was going through and he

thought that if it could happen

to such a great player as Steve,

it could happen to him, for

whatever reason  and he took

comfort in Steve’s misery and

he figured out that his arm went

crazy after his dad died and that

his arm was still out in left field

and would ever and always be

there and while he felt really bad

for Steve Sax, he gave thanks for

his wild left arm, the arm

coaches thought would be his ticket

to the big leagues, the arm that

went crazy after his dad died

— the arm that took and absorbed

all the grief and let him find his

way out of left field and

into life.