Sports And The Ties That Bind

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    Sports And The Ties That Bind

    INDIANAPOLIS—Just before he throws out the ceremonial first pitch to start the First Baptist youth baseball and softball season, Joe Hogsett says a few words to the people in the crowd.

    He’s not there because he’s the mayor of Indianapolis, but because he’s a First Baptist dad and also had been a First Baptist coach.

    Those assembled, many of them clutching their children’s hands, nod, chuckle and applaud. They know how this church, with its sprawling baseball, softball and soccer fields and cramped little basketball court on the city’s north side, has figured in their lives.

    That’s the spirit to which Hogsett speaks.

    He talks about how generations of children have played sports here and formed ties that endure. Those ties bind not just the children who played the games, but the families—the parents, grandparents, siblings and friends—who show up to cheer and support them.

    Of such bonds, communities—healthy cities—are born and built.

    I’m here because, like the mayor, I, too, am a First Baptist father and former coach. My daughter played softball, soccer and basketball here. My son began his long love affair with baseball and also played basketball and soccer at First Baptist.

    Both my children are adults now, so it’s a rare occasion that brings me back to these fields these days.

    For years, though, it was a rare week when my wife and I weren’t at First Baptist two, three or four times with one child or the other. I spent many happy hours keeping the book for baseball or softball and running the scoreboard or the clock for basketball.

    I realize now how much I miss those days.

    As I look around at the crowd gathered—the fathers, the mothers, the sons, the daughters—I realize, forgive me, that I’m a little envious. There are few things I have enjoyed more in my life than watching my children compete.

    Particularly here.

    My wife and I were drawn to First Baptist for specific reasons.

    We liked the fact that First Baptist Athletics emphasized fair play and respect for one’s opponents. Parents or coaches who grew too angry or became too aggressive were asked, politely, to tone it down. If they didn’t heed the request, they were asked, still politely but more forcefully, to make a choice.

    They either could start acting like adults—or they could leave.

    Even more important was First Baptist’s commitment to inviting children of all races and from all faiths and backgrounds to participate. First Baptist always has held that no child, regardless of his or her financial circumstances, would be turned away.

    That commitment made First Baptist a place where people, regardless of their differences, came together.

    I remember being here once for one of my daughter’s softball games. My son was with me and said he was going to run into the church to use the restroom.

    When he hadn’t come back after a bit, I went to check on him. I found him on the basketball court, playing in a pickup game with a group of boys his age—boys who were refugees whose families had fled their homelands to escape oppression.

    After reminding him that he needed to let me know where he was, I left him to continue hooping with his new friends.

    As I look around the crowd, I see things haven’t changed. There still are kids and families who are rich and poor, Black and white, native-born and newly arrived.

    That is what I love about First Baptist.

    So many forces in American life these days work to tear us apart—to pit citizen against citizen, neighbor against neighbor.

    The forces that bring us together are to be treasured.

    First Baptist is one of them.

    I’m here today because First Baptist is launching a campaign to build more fields and more courts—and offer more help to families with kids who just want to play.

    In true First Baptist fashion, the groundbreaking ceremony takes place off to the side, with little fanfare.

    The children playing their baseball and softball games remain the center of attention.

    As I leave, I stop to watch a game of small boys playing baseball. The batter laces a line drive that scores a run.

    His teammates cheer. Parents on both sides yell encouragement to their children.

    Just another day in America.

    America, as it should be.

    FOOTNOTE: John Krull is director of Franklin College’s Pulliam School of Journalism and publisher of TheStatehouseFile.com, a news website powered by Franklin College journalism students. The views expressed are those of the author only and should not be attributed to Franklin College.