Opening Day and More

Thursday was Opening Day for this year’s baseball season. It was also my older son’s 23rd birthday. Opening Day was always a big deal to my sons and me. I love baseball and turned them into fans. Every year on Opening Day, I’d pick my sons up early from school. We’d grill bratwurst, make burgers, popcorn, nachos, you name it and watch games on ESPN. At some point in the afternoon we’d head outside for a game of catch. During the late afternoon seventh inning stretch, we’d get up and stretch. My kids looked forward to Opening Day almost as much as I did.



I love baseball. I think on the seventh day when God rested, He actually planned the game out. It is a perfect game, mathematically precise, statistically in-depth, artistically beautiful. It is a game played by men who remember when they were boys. Opening Day symbolizes hope. It’s a new season and anyone can win.


Thursday, as the first pitch was being thrown out, Opie was called to medical. Two weeks ago he had been hospitalized for three days with a severe respiratory infection. He came back to the building about ten pounds lighter and weaker, but after a few days of rec and weights, he looked back to normal. Opie’s a big, muscular, healthy kid - 6’1” about 205 lbs. As I’ve written before, he was raised in prison. He’s been in and out of prison (including juvenile detention) since he was ten.


Anyway, he went down to medical not knowing why he’d been called (normally you get a pass the night before). Fifteen minutes later he was back. He had tears in his eyes. Opie is a product of prison. He knows you don’t show emotion in here. This was serious. This was something you don’t hold tears back.


Opie found out he has a serious illness. I’m not putting the disease out there, but it was enough for me to stop and pray for him. The doctor in this dump just told him. No counselor was available. Just, inmate ________, you have ________.


As I sat and prayed about Opie, I thought about my older son. He and Opie are the same age. My son lived a privileged life. He had everything handed to him. He had parents who loved him. He took part in every school opportunity. He saw the world and went to an exclusive four year college that cost close to $200,000.


Opie grew up with a crack addict father in housing projects in Milwaukee. He was the only white kid in his class and was regularly picked on and beaten up. He started committing crimes when he was seven. He’s had more fights than everyone I know on the outside combined.


But, Opie is a sweet kid. What little he has I’ve seen him share it all. I’ve seen this “incorrigible” felon give the last of his food away to a guy he barely knew who was hungry. I don’t know if I would do that. I’m not sure my sons would do that.


I’ve learned through knowing Opie that you can’t be too quick to judge someone else. When you least expect it, humanity is present.


I don’t understand God. Opie has had a lousy life. He doesn’t deserve this. As I said, I don’t understand God. But, I trust Him. Those of us close to him rallied around him. He called his grandmother. He went out in the sun.


I was worried when he first got the news how he’d handle it. I should have known better. As I said earlier, you can’t be too quick to judge.


This morning E decided to get his back tattoo done. A few days ago he went into the other building to get the outline done. Two nights ago another guy was busted in the wrong building getting his back tattoo.


E spent the morning in 4B getting his work done. After noon count, he went back. He got caught. They packed E up and sent him to the hole. He’ll be there a minimum of five days.


What did the tattoo cost? $325. It will also cost E his job as a maintenance employee. He may be thrown out of college (you can’t stay in college with a conviction).


Big S and I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. He has half a Chinese dragon on his back. He lost money. He’s probably lost his job and maybe lost his schooling.


I miss Opening Day with my boys. I’ll never forget the start of this baseball season.