Heroes in the Midst of the Madness

Despite a busy spring baseball season as a coach, I've caught a few minutes here and there of what they refer to in college basketball as March Madness. This year's tournament has produced more than its share of incredible performances. I've heard announcers and commentators refer to outstanding players as heroes during the madness. They speak of their courage, perseverance, and faith in themselves and their teammates. And I wouldn't disagree with that assessment. I'm not here to say that they're not heroes in some sense. When you can bring a group of people together and unify them- as in a team, a university, a community, etc.- then your efforts are heroic. When you can inspire others to chase their dreams and believe in themselves, kudos to you as an athlete. Well done. But not everyone is an athlete and few folks are afforded the opportunity to compete in high profile sports competitions. Thus common heroism is often overlooked. I recently had the privilege of watching several military veterans be honored at one of the baseball games I was coaching. One of those honorees was a former player of mine named Brett. He didn't get to play much when I coached him but I knew he was destined to be a winner in life. The few times he got to play in games way back when, I would ask him, “Are you ready?” His answer was always the same. “I was born ready, Coach.” Brett served two dangerous tours in Fallujah, Iraq during his time in the Marines. On the day he was publicly recognized and threw out the first pitch, I asked again if he was ready to perform and got the standard reply. A few weeks back our church conducted an exercise known as Cardboard Testimonies, where ordinary folks stand before their church family and present a brief written synopsis of their personal story on the front and back of a piece of cardboard. It takes courage to stand before others and reveal your deepest struggles. It takes perseverance to have endured those struggles and faith not to have buckled under their weight. Don, one of our members, had within the past several months suffered a stroke that nearly took his life and eventually left him incapable of many of the normal functions he had once easily accomplished. On the morning of Cardboard Testimonies, Don- who had been told at one point that he would probably never walk again- slowly but triumphantly made his way toward the pulpit, climbed the stairs, and presented his cardboard sign for the world to see. It really didn't matter what it said on the board. When he conquered those stairs, I knew I was in the presence of a real-life hero. Many moist eyes in the congregation would certainly have agreed. I've seen my share of incredible sports highlights in my life, but Don's performance that day was among the most courageous and inspirational feats I have ever witnessed. I don't know if heroes are born or made. I only know that within the daily madness of life, I have been privileged to encounter my share of inspirational people. And I'm a better man for having had the honor of witnessing Brett ascend the ranks and Don ascend the stairs. Heroes indeed.