Baseball, Friendship, and Bathroom Prophecy

Since returning to the States, it has been great to reconnect with some friends. Due to the time difference while living in Switzerland, it was hard to connect even if the desire existed. That said, it’s incredible how easily you can pick up right where you left off with your close friends.

This made me think, what makes a connection like this possible?

One good friend of mine is someone that I met while playing professional baseball. We were both 18 years old and fresh out of high school. We immediately connected with the same love of music, but honestly, besides that, there wasn’t much of a commonality. He was from Riverside, California, and I came from Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. He was always full of energy and excitement, and I was usually permanently more subdued and wanted to relax. Our personalities couldn’t have been more different, and yet we began a lifelong friendship that is still going on today.

Last week, he called me to catch up, and we immediately hit the ground running with old stories and fun times. We belly laughed. One story always comes up, no matter the topic or circumstance; it explains our connection in a nutshell, and it revolves around the bathroom.

Now, before you get a bit grossed out, it has less to do with going to the bathroom and more to do with a specific men’s bathroom in Vero Beach, Florida.

This particular bathroom can be found in Bobby’s Restaurant & Lounge on Ocean Drive in Vero Beach, Florida. It was our favorite hangout after every game. We would typically be the only people in there. (Vero Beach is a small beach town in Florida. Although Dodgertown, the L.A. Dodgers old Spring Training facility, can still be found there, that is about it. It is a beautiful place, especially along the water, but quiet. Very quiet.)

We got to know the bartender, Richie, very well—probably too well. Richie would let us come behind the bar and get what we needed for that evening. We would always turn on one of the West Coast baseball games and order some food. We loved it there.

Inevitably, though, one of us would have to use the restroom. This was something that we both hated to do. Not because we would miss some of the game, or we would miss our drinks, or because our food would get cold. Nope. We wanted to use the bathroom in peace; depending on how well we were playing, that wouldn’t happen.

You see, the sports page from the local paper, The Press Journal, would always hang on the wall over the urinals in the men’s restroom in Bobby’s. You can find the “Who’s Hot” and “Who’s Not” sections on the left-hand side of the page. This section was dedicated to individual baseball players from the team who were either playing well or weren’t. Unfortunately, my friend and I often found ourselves in the “Who’s Not” section. Hence, maybe our need for Richie all the time.

So picture one of us standing there (or maybe not), simply trying to go to the bathroom, but instead, having to read how badly we were playing at the time. Have you ever tried to use the bathroom while your blood pressure rapidly rose? We still laugh about it to this day. It was the year we couldn’t pee in peace. Having said that, it wasn’t always this amusing.

Baseball is a game of failure. The best hitters are those who fail 7 out of 10 times. Therefore, it is a mental game. Those who could deal with failure, understanding that it was a long season, faired much better than those who couldn’t. On top of that, when you are a young kid who was usually one of the best at what you did for most of your life, dealing with that kind of failure is extremely difficult. In some ways, our identities were at stake for us. The more we failed, the more we lost a sense of who we thought we were. This was extremely difficult for all of us to go through. That is why the “Who’s Not” section in Bobby’s Restaurant & Lounge was full of grace and prophecy.

There is a reason the baseball players’ fraternity is so tight. It has less to do with succeeding at a high level and more with being with one another through failures and hard times. Through the realization that we are flawed. The connection is born through the struggle.

To this day, my relationship with my friend is grounded in this fact. What once was about helping each other in and through baseball now involves seeing, accepting, and helping each other understand our cracks as husbands, fathers, community members, and, most importantly, as individuals—loving each other through it all.

I once read that at the end of our lives, the only things that will matter are our relationships—relationships with ourselves, others, and God. That sounds about right.

If this is true, genuine, meaningful relationships blossom to the extent that we allow our cracks to be exposed through our facades. It is there that we can allow others to come in and be with our true selves while at the same time being able to see, accept, and enter into the cracks of others. What beautiful grace.

I just hope you never have to read about it in a restroom near you. 🙂