Blind Quarterback Plays Baseball: Announcing My Presence with Authority

Yesterday, my good friend and baseball mentor Tom “Old Dog” Wyrsch visited me. He handed me an official Royals Postseason 2014 hat. 

“It might be a little big, but add that to your collection.” 

I grinned and thanked him as I sat the worn ball cap upon my head. Tom, his daughter and my friend, Callie sat with me and discussed hot batters, tough pitchers, the upcoming series with the Minnesota Twins (or as I learned to call them, The Twinkies), great baseball films and how much we hate the Yankees. Then Tom’s good friend and pastor, Jason St. John, arrived and enlightened me on the art of pitching. 

Jason was a pitcher in high school and college - where he set several school records. Jason sat down next to me, showed me the difference between a 1^st baseman’s glove and a fielder’s glove. Then he placed my Royals’ baseball in my hand. 

For the next 20 minutes, Jason placed the ball in my hand, having me place my fingers on different spots on the ball to show me the different ways of holding the ball to throw a desired pitch. I learned how to hold the ball to throw a fast ball, a cut fast ball, a curve ball, a sinker and a slider. He twisted my wrist in different directions, showing me how the ball must be released and what fingers it needed to roll off of, to cut up and down or from laterally or drop like a stone once it arrives at the plate. We spent some time learning the hand and finger positioning for a cutting fast ball - made famous by Yankees pitcher Mariano Rivera. I was itching to get outside and “bring heat”

We stepped outside onto a patch of grass, the sun shining and a snap in the cool morning breeze. Jason dawned his 1^st baseman’s glove and Tom put on the fielders glove and took a few steps away from me. Jason coached me and I positioned my feet and legs according to his instructions and prepared to do something that I have not done in 30 years of living. I positioned my feet, positioned my fingers on the stitching of the ball, wound my arm back, leaned forward, snapped my wrist and brought heat. Less than a second later, I heard the beautiful sound of a padded crack as the ball landed snugly in Tom’s glove.

“Better take a few steps back Tom he has a pretty good fast ball” said Jason.

We threw for about ten minutes, some of the pitches sailed over Tom’s head or to his side, but I was constantly chasing that elusive sound of the ball clapping into the leather padding of Tom’s glove. I could have stood out there in the empty field, with the sun on my face and the cool spring breeze blowing around me, as I played my first ever game of catch.

While I don’t think I will be getting a call from the Royals’ bull pen any time soon, yesterday morning will be a memory that will live with me for a long time. The feeling of throwing the perfect fast ball, never being able to see it, but hearing that beautiful crack as it slapped into Toms glove and knowing that I had thrown it just right was priceless.