“I can’t believe he just goes into his office while the kids are still here…”
“Ya, I know, he’s a little anti-social for a youth pastor.”
Pastor Don hurried into his office and shut the door. He quickly logged onto his computer and pulled up the live Cleveland Indians radio broadcast. The Indians were playing the Yankees in the last of a three game regular season series. The Cleveland team was terrible this year, almost every year it seemed these days, and the Yankees were continuing their amazing 2003 run.
The familiar voices of the Indian’s radio broadcast team - Tom Hamilton, Matt Underwood, and Mike Hegan - greeted Pastor Don. Pastor Don released a deep sigh, in it was the stress of being surrounded by so many people for the past two hours and also relief that it was only the 5th inning. He could catch four more innings before he went home for the night.
Pastor Don’s earliest memories were of watching Indian’s games with his dad on their tiny tv in Ohio. Little Donny would climb onto his dad’s lap as his father would explain the rules of baseball, who the players were, and why baseball was important to America’s history. Donny’s dad never played, Donny never did either, but they never missed a game - 108 summer nights a year they would gather together in their basement and listen or watch the Indians play America’s pastime.
One September day when Donny was in 2nd grade, Donny’s father told him he would give him a ride to school instead of taking the bus. To Donny’s absolute surprise they drove past the school and to Cleveland Stadium for Donny’s first and only ball-game. Donny had the time of his life seeing all of his heroes in-person and eating ballpark franks with his pops. His dad had been saving money that summer to take him to a late season game when tickets were cheaper. The Indians were completely out of the pennant race but they got a walk-off win that day, cementing the memory and day as Donny’s most precious with his dad.
A week later, Donny’s dad died in a work accident. In the 23 years since, Donny still didn’t miss a game when he could help it. Hearing or watching the broadcast would always take him back to his dad’s lap or that sunny September day and no matter what was going on in his life - he would feel like everything was right with the world.
There was no denying the impact Donny’s father had on his life. That was why he became a youth pastor - he knew other kids weren’t as fortunate as him to have parents that would spend meaningful time with them. Although the energy of teenagers drained his introverted self and he missed half of Sunday and Wednesday night Indian games, he knew his dad would be proud of him for going outside his comfort zone.
knock knock
A tiny child’s head appeared in his office door window. Pastor Don motioned for the secretary’s son to come in. Troy was about six years old and was always at the church, usually the last kid to leave as his mom was the only staff member with kids his age. Troy’s mom was a single mother who devoted most of her time to the church that came around her when Troy’s dad left them. When all of the other kids would leave, Troy would come and find Pastor Don.
“Hi, Pastor Don. Can I listen with you?”
“I would like nothing more, Troy. And for the millionth time…Call me Donny.”
Pastor Don
Good point! Good writing! Thank you!