"A team and its fans await the result of a year, no years of labor.
And a Mustang hitter in red and black waits on deck. It's the bottom of the 7th. It couldn't be, could it? Could it all come down to this? It seems it could, because it did.
Yes, this player had had his moments through the years and his baseball career. There had been ups. There had been downs. There had been in-betweens. And now it all came down to this.
The team had talked about preparing for moments such as these -- that the key was to treat it "just like practice" and stay in the moment. Go pitch by pitch.
Still, this was the moment. The Mustangs were down by one run in the last inning of the last game of the season. A championship was on the line.
As he was on deck, memories of the years of work, sweat, great days at practice, and tough days, too, were there. He laughed about how one teammate would always say the most amazing things that would make every one laugh at the right times, well, mostly the right times. Sometimes he irritated the coach, and the players laughed about that ... when the coach wasn't around.
He went over a few mechanical reminders in the on-deck circle as the opponent changed pitchers. Yes, it would be the opponents' ace to try and close it out. A few fans gave well wishes, and then a most amazing thing happened. He was calm and ready. It was amazing, but the practice, the off-season work, the ABC's, the practice and preparation had led to a quite confidence in this tense moment.
Sure, there were nerves. But they were the nerves of ready excitement.
Bases loaded, two outs, and the Mustangs trailed, 5-4. We were out of pitching. It was do or die. Two runs now to win, or lose either in this inning, or later.
Deep breath. Wait, another deep breath.
He stepped into the box. The Mustangs' fans were as loud as they had ever been, but to him they were so much background noise in this moment of moments.
First pitch. Strike one, but it wasn't his pitch. It was a fast ball at the knees on the outside corner. He stepped out of the box.
Next pitch. Ball one. A curveball up and away. Deep breath.
Next pitch. A ball. Wow, a close pitch on the inner half where he likes it, but just inside. 2-1.
But then the pitcher threw his pitch ... inner half at the thighs ... a fastball at about 84-mph.
And he swung. Right. Through. It. 2-2.
He stepped out. It was a "yellow light" moment. A = Act confident. Remember that time when he got a big hit vs. the Angels, and the ball seemed the size of a grapefruit. Ah, yes. That's the ticket. B = Deep breath. And control the breathing at the plate. C = Control those thoughts. "I'm the man. Next pitch is mine. Line drive up the middle. Let's go."
Back in the box. "Make my two-strike adjustment. Bring it."
It was then that everything just seemed to crawl to a near stop. The pitcher did the unthinkable. He threw that nasty curveball. It broke toward the outside corner ... nearing the knees.
But this Mustang hitter had been locked in on the ball seemingly for a baseball eternity, indeed, since it left the pitcher's hand. He had picked up the pitch and spin immediately, so when it struck his bat and resulted in a solid "ping!", he was not surprised. The line drive headed up the middle, just past the diving shortstop.
Runners were flying, and coach was frantically waving the winning run home from third.
Then there was the play at the plate .... they hit the cut-off, the relay was there, the slide ...
And ... SAFE!!
Mustangs poured out of the dugout in a mad celebration. They mobbed the game-winning hitter at first base. As his teammates headed toward him to mob him, even in that moment he remembered ... even in that wild moment ... to run the play out and make sure he got to first base so there would not be a force out.
The dog pile started between 1st and 2nd. Every player got on.
The coaches just looked, laughed, and hugged each other.
Mustangs fans cried. And they hugged. They cried some more. The coaches cried.
At the bottom of the dogpile was the Mustang who had got the game-winning hit. Amid the crushing weight, whooping, and laughter of his teammates, he thought how the best part of all was that he had done this with his friends.
Everything was worth it now. Everything.
Relationship with each other, their coaches, with their families, and ultimately withe Jesus Himself had held this team together and gotten them to this special moment. Now he knew. Now, he understood.
Winning was great, but it was better to have done it the right way, for the right reasons ... and with the Mustang Nation."
As the story above drew to a close, the former Mustang wiped tears from his eyes. Remembering that moment with his teammates was special, even more than a quarter of a century later.
And oh ... The former Mustang told this story now to his team ... the team that he now coached. And he concluded with this:
"And boys, no men, that's what I remember about being a Mustang ... that what we accomplished together was for a purpose higher than ourselves. We did it for each other. Ultimately, we did it for Christ. We worshipped together on the field, on that day and many others. Lives were touched and impacted for eternity. God was honored and I hope, no, I believe that He smiled at us.
Now, you go do the same."
And so it goes.
