WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Cheeseburger in Paradise

I recognized the name as soon as it appeared in the Inbox section of my emails. Wow! A blast from the past for sure. My mind raced back 34 years (yes, time flies) and I began to relive those moments. When I tell of all the things that happened during that brief time, some folks find it hard to believe. But anyone who has been where I was then will tell you, it can't be accurately described. The only way to understand is to experience it. And I did.

The year was 1984 and I was a college baseball player at Appalachian State on a championship team. As a result, we played in the first round of the playoffs, which in college baseball is called a Regional. Back then, six teams were in a regional.

We were sent to Mississippi State University. MSU was the center of the world as far as college baseball was concerned at the time. Legendary coach Ron Polk. Super duper stars like Will Clark and Rafael Palmiero were playing then. But most of all . . . the Left Field Lounge was in full force.

MSU fans were beyond fanatical. They lined up their pickup trucks and grills just beyond the left field fence and proceeded to have themselves an absolute blast. And it was all fun and games, unless you were the leftfielder for the opposing team.

And guess who would be playing left field for Appalachian State? Yes, yours truly. “Don't turn around and acknowledge them,” I was told. “If they think they're getting to you, they'll rag you even harder,” they said. I had no idea what I was in for. But to be honest, I wasn't scared. Just curious.

I had been a shortstop all my life but toward the end of that season, coach had two shortstops and felt like putting me in leftfield gave us the best chance to win. I was cool with that. And I'm glad now that it all worked out that way. Otherwise I would not have met Amos.

Our first game was against the University of New Orleans. I took a deep breath as I trotted from the first base dugout to my spot in leftfield. “Here we go,” I said to myself, “Don't let them get to you.”

But a funny thing happened when I arrived to face the massive crowd crammed in the area beyond the leftfield fence. They were glad to see me. They were pulling against New Orleans, which automatically made them fans of ASU. It was like a family reunion. They cheered like I had made the ESPN SportsCenter Play of the Day every time I caught a routine fly ball. I got hit two hits that game and you would have thought I was Babe Ruth based on the ovation I received when I got back to leftfield following my at bats. Between innings I spoke with them like they were family members. Several of the young ladies asked me if I had a girlfriend. The dreaded Left Field Lounge had become . . . a slice of Heaven on earth, in a sense.

A guy named Amos seemed to have the most to say to me, and it was all positive. He kept asking me how I liked my cheeseburgers. Eventually it dawned on me that he was inviting me to join him on the back of his pickup truck after the game. I couldn't go out there after our first game but I promised I would come eventually. And I let him know I liked my burgers with everything except onions.

Having lost 1-0 the first day, the next day was an elimination game and once again, since we weren't playing against MSU, the Left Field Lounge loved us. I took a hat to Amos. He later gave me a shirt. The crowd cheered every time I trotted out to left field. I waved a slightly embarrassed wave. We lost that game by one run as well but my friends didn't seem to care.

When I showed up at Amos' pickup truck an hour or so after the game, I got an ovation from the Left Field Lounge crowd. It was surreal. Amos fixed me two of the tastiest cheeseburgers I have ever eaten in my life. I sat on back of his truck and ragged the leftfielder who was playing against MSU that night, thankful yet again that it wasn't us playing against them. But even that leftfielder got invited to join them after the game for cheeseburgers and BBQ sandwiches. 

Many years later, I got an email from Amos. He was astonished to see online that the baseball coach at Gardner-Webb had the same name as the player he had served cheeseburgers to many years earlier. Is that you?, he wrote. Yes, it was, replied I. I was reminded again of my time in 1984 at the “Heaven on earth” Leftfield Lounge. A few weeks ago, he emailed me again to check and see how I was doing and to let me know he follows our team and was proud of some of our impressive victories from this season. He still has the hat I gave him. He has even invited me to accompany him on foreign mission trips in the future if I am able to go. I just might take him up on that.

Several verses in Scripture give us a glimpse of Heaven. John 14:3 says that Jesus has prepared a place there for us. Revelations 21:4 lets us know there will be no tears or sadness there (or one run losses). I Corinthians 2:9 tells us that we can't even imagine how wonderful it will be.

I thought of all this as I read Amos' latest email recently. And I decided that Luke 13:29 sounds pretty good, too. That's where it says that those in Heaven will come from every direction to take their place at the greatest feast ever. I'm looking forward to that, especially if there are pickup trucks and grills present. And I fully expect to chow down on a few more of Amos' cheeseburgers. No onions, please.