Sunday Reflections: Faith and Baseball

By Ben Black, Pastor of Forest Hills Presbyterian Church

I sat on my couch October 14, 1992 huddled with my dad as we watched in awe as the Pirates were rushing past the Braves in game seven of the NLCS. 

The Pirates seemed destined to be the NL representative in the Fall Classic.  The Pirates had lost some of their firepower from the year before when Bobby Bonilla left in free agency and John Smiley in a trade to the Twins—but none of that mattered as they were three outs away from shutting out the Braves in the final frame of the final game in the series 2-0. 

Then it happened. Disaster struck. Doug Drabek toed the rubber to start the ninth after pitching eight beautiful innings of shutout ball. The first batter was Terry Pendleton. Pendleton lined a ball into right field that was only fair by a matter of inches. The ball danced beside the white chalk and he strolled into second base. David Justice then came up and hit a grounder to gold glove second basemen Jose Lind who booted the ball. Pendleton went to third and Justice was now at first. Drabek then proceeded to walk former Pirate Sid Bream on four pitches to load the bases.  Drabek's day was over as manager Jim Leyland brought in Stan Belinda to save the game. The first batter to face Belinda was Ron Gant who proceeded to hit a sacrifice fly that scored Pendleton from third. One out, but now the score read 2-1. The Braves again loaded the bases courtesy of another walk. The Braves pinch hit Brian Hunter who flew popped out to Jose Lind for the second out of the inning.

This was it.

One more out to go and the Pirates were in the World Series.

I cracked my knuckles and tensely leaned into the TV as Francisco Cabrera came to the plate pinch hitting for the Braves' reliever Jeff Reardon.

Belinda's first two pitches were balls.  His third pitch, however, was sliced foul into the third base stands.  Two balls, one strike. The very next pitch, Cabrera dropped a ball into short center field that easily scored Justice from third.  The surprise however, was Bream who made a mad dash for home.  Barry Bonds earned his spot in Pirates infamy as he launched a terrible throw to the plate from shallow center that allowed Bream to dodge catcher Mike Lavalliere's tag.

The Braves won.

I will never forget that game.

I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach as my eyes began to well up with tears.

That bitter moment was the last time we have had winning baseball in the city of Pittsburgh.

Many of us have grown cynical.  We have become jaded with a losing team that has seemingly made an art of dashing hopes of a winning record—much less the World Series again.

However, as you know that is not the end of the story. The Pirates have finally seemed to turn the corner and have been playing some of the best baseball in the Major Leagues.  I love it! 

As I think back to that fateful day in the October of '92, I can't help but draw a link to how the years of Pirate misery translates into my own life.

I have had moments where I thought nothing could touch me and success seemed to come without effort.  But, sometimes seemingly on the heels of that success I have experienced some very harsh lows. When I was 12, I faced a severe illness that threatened to cost me everything. When I was 15, I lost a close and dear friend to a heart attack due to a birth defect.  I watched in horror as a person I trusted and had grown to respect murdered a friend of mine who was nine months pregnant with his baby. 

This world has some very harsh and tragic realities. Some of which we will never stop questioning or running through our heads.

However, those tragedies are not the end. What has gotten me through, since I was very young, has been my faith in God. I know that my stories are not unique to me. In fact, I know that many out there have much more chilling and horrific tales to tell. Tales where you were the victim and not the bystander. Stories where you have been hurt and scarred beyond words. Pain that only leaves you aching and wondering—how could this have happened to me? Is there more?

There is more.  

There is hope. Hope comes from faith. It comes from the realization that even the darkest days will give way to peace.  You are not alone.  Maybe, it has been a long time since you have felt peace but please believe me when I say that there is a way.

I do not write all of this so that you will start attending my church (although you are always more than welcome) but I would like to encourage you to give faith another chance. 

Sometimes things happen in our lives that cover us like a dark blanket... and that blanket never lifts for years. 

But there is more. My prayer is that you would remember that God loves you and will lift the shroud of pain if you are willing to take a step of faith.