This is outstanding. I'm sending this to about 15 friends and colleagues first thing tomorrow.
It's not only outstanding, it is oh, so true, especially the part about the issue at hand - what they did - getting not just sidetracked, but buried, in all the noise about what they are.
I just checked out some other posts on this guy's blog. He's good, and thoughtful. Must add to my already-too-long list of webkinz I follow...
The summer I turned 16, I was a pitcher for our town's summer-league baseball team. I got thrown out of my best game of that summer (a no-hitter through six innings) because of something I said to the ump when I was at bat (no DH) in the sixth.
He called me out on a pitch that was clearly outside.
I said, "You're an ump like I'm a bird."
He threw me out of the game on the spot.
My dad, for the only time ever, came out of the stands and went directly to me, not the ump, and demanded to know what I said. I told him, and he looked at me, dumbfounded, for a count or two. Then he said:
"Blame the call, not the man."
And that was all he said to me for the remainder of the entire day. The ump, though, gave me the game ball at game's end, since my team eventually won, making me feel both good and very, very small. (That was the only no-hitter I ever pitched, something that gets my wry glad going whenever I think of it.)
This ties in very nicely with your piece about O'Fiaich, clearly. Hate the sin, love the sinner; hate the call, respect the ump; argue the deed, not the doer. Good advice, no matter what the dressing, but hard to live up to.
3 comments:
This is outstanding. I'm sending this to about 15 friends and colleagues first thing tomorrow.
It's not only outstanding, it is oh, so true, especially the part about the issue at hand - what they did - getting not just sidetracked, but buried, in all the noise about what they are.
I just checked out some other posts on this guy's blog. He's good, and thoughtful. Must add to my already-too-long list of webkinz I follow...
The summer I turned 16, I was a pitcher for our town's summer-league baseball team. I got thrown out of my best game of that summer (a no-hitter through six innings) because of something I said to the ump when I was at bat (no DH) in the sixth.
He called me out on a pitch that was clearly outside.
I said, "You're an ump like I'm a bird."
He threw me out of the game on the spot.
My dad, for the only time ever, came out of the stands and went directly to me, not the ump, and demanded to know what I said. I told him, and he looked at me, dumbfounded, for a count or two. Then he said:
"Blame the call, not the man."
And that was all he said to me for the remainder of the entire day. The ump, though, gave me the game ball at game's end, since my team eventually won, making me feel both good and very, very small. (That was the only no-hitter I ever pitched, something that gets my wry glad going whenever I think of it.)
This ties in very nicely with your piece about O'Fiaich, clearly. Hate the sin, love the sinner; hate the call, respect the ump; argue the deed, not the doer. Good advice, no matter what the dressing, but hard to live up to.
Edit to above: "my wry gland", not wry glad.
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