Putting my talent to good use

Boy oh boy, am I glad I went to that party last night!

After a shower, and more debate in front of the mirror about going or not, I finally decided that I was going to that party, come hell or high water. Before I headed out, I grabbed my wallet, my comb and a baseball.

I like to carry a baseball at all times. I picked that up from my old pitching coach Phil Brickma (1993 Chicago Cubs Pitching Coach). He was wacky, but he taught me a lot about visualization. There’s a theory that if you can visualize yourself doing the motions of an activity that it can be just as effective as actually doing the motions. I think it’s called sense memory. In the movie Caddyshack, it was called “Be the ball.”

Anyways, back to last night. I drove over and parked on a dark residential street about three blocks from the party. I’m walking down the street, clutching my baseball. As I’m scanning its threads with my fingers, I’m thinking about how I should be at home, focusing on my craft.

But then, I see two dark figures towards the end of the street. It kind of looked like they were having some kind of struggle, or fight or something.

The thing is: This is Chicago. Sometimes a struggle is just a couple of drunks having fun. Sometimes a person screaming is just a college kid on a weekend binge. So I’m only mildly cautious of the scene I’m approaching.

Well, as I get closer, I see that I’m walking towards a girl and a guy in their 20s with their backs to me. And the guy is grabbing on the girl’s purse. I quicken my pace.

Just as I came up on the two, the guy gave up trying to swipe her purse. He starts running off and the girl is a little panicked.

I say, “Are you okay?” She says back, “No, he’s got my phone!”

Well, that’s when the adrenaline kicked in. I had a plain view of the guy running down the middle of the street. I could see the phone in his hand.

I raised my arm up and gave the target one last look. Then ZOOM, the ball flies from my hand with all the speed and velocity that I remember from my rookie year. WHOOSH, the ball sails through the air, then with a loud POP, i see it’s a BULLSEYE!

The ball hits the guy right in the hand. He grunts in pain and the phone drops out of his grasp. The guy keeps running. The girl looks at me in amazement. I admit I was just as amazed as her.

Of course I had hoped the old Rowengartner fastball would come back, but there was no guarantee. Even today, when I went out to throw some practice balls, I couldn’t get close to what I did last night.  

Anyway, back to the scene of the crime. The girl and I head over to where her iPhone had fallen. She leans down to pick it up and as luck would have it, there’s not really any damage. Maybe a scratch or two, but that’s it.

She looked at me and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I shrugged my shoulders as if saving girls with a magical pitching arm was just an everyday occurrence for me. I retrieved the baseball, which had rolled over to the curb.

I walked back to her and asked her if she was hurt and if she was going to be all right. She said she was fine.

“Where did you learn to throw a baseball like that?” she asked.

I realized she didn’t recognize me and I was actually relieved. I wasn’t Henry Rowengartner, former baseball player and rookie of the year to this girl. I was a man (maybe a hero?) who had just saved her.

Still playing it cool, I told her that throwing baseballs was just a hobby of mine.

“Well, you’re incredible,” she said. “You should be on the Chicago Cubs.”

Then she asked, “Is there any way I can repay you?”

“You just did,” I said, feeling the mist starting to form in the corners of my eyes.

I know she couldn’t have understood what that meant. Before anything else could be said, we  saw the headlights of a car approaching. A taxi. She flagged it down and got in. 

“Thanks again,” the girl said, as she got in the cab. The car drove away and I continued on my way to the party.

I think I’m in love.

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