Feeling Small - The Final Bottom of the Ninth
Over the past few years, I’ve had the opportunity to travel to Europe with my family a few times. My daughter will be attending school across the ocean next fall and we have really leaned into exploring that continent. While we have plenty more to see, Paris ranks highest on the list of places to visit for us.
Because of the sheer amount of history to consider in a country such as France, it’s really easy to feel like a small, if not insignificant, part of a much greater story. One such moment came while I was in the Cour Napoléon, the courtyard outside of the Louvre. As I glanced up, I saw a series of statues I later learned were referred to as ‘Hommes illustres’ - The Famous Men. 86 men were chosen to be remembered through these sculptures because of their accomplishments in the humanities. When you consider the influence of those you recognize from the list, one’s own accomplishments can feel quite tiny in comparison. And, when you also consider that some of those men were chosen to be immortalized yet we have no real connection to their influence, that also makes one realize how quickly we, too, may be forgotten.
On January 24, 2013, we started a little baseball-themed devotional we called “Bottom of the Ninth.” The very first edition was a sweet reflection about baseball signs from the coach in the third base box needing to be deciphered like the parables from Jesus. Meredith Weide, one of the devotional’s founders, wrote the piece and kicked off something that would last for over a decade and 376 reflections on baseball and Jesus in some way, shape, or form. Having picked up what Meredith and my dear friend Tom Walters started so many years ago, it’s been remarkable to experience how some of our writings have helped people see a game or their faith a little differently by connecting the two together. Carrying the torch for Bottom of the Ninth has been one of my favorite accomplishments in life.
There’s a funny thing about accomplishments - they’ve made me feel smaller rather than bigger. The things I’ve been able to accomplish since Bottom of the Ninth started represented goals I hoped to achieve when I set out on this career in coaching and athletics. Winning a championship. Publishing a book. Being a positive influence on how someone else leads, thinks, or coaches. Baptizing one (and now many more) of my players. Experiencing those things humbled me, made me feel a part of a much larger story, rather than filling me with arrogance or pride. I suppose, in many ways, that means that I’ve chosen to pursue some of the better things in life. Writing Bottom of the Ninth represented one of those better things and I’m so grateful for the few hundred or so readers who have read them faithfully through the years.
The internet can certainly present one with the illusion of importance. The words you write can exist in perpetuity, whether they are good, meaningful, or something short of either. While the likelihood of words I’ve written ever being immortalized like those men who exist outside of the Louvre is literally zero, the smallness I feel in that is not defeating. There are great benefits in feeling small. It can keep you going and growing. While this represents the last Bottom of the Ninth, I will continue my journey of faith and find an outlet for writing at some point again in the future.
But, for now, I tip my cap to those who started this devotional and to those who have encouraged me on through the years of writing it. Feeling small in the moment, looking forward to what might be ahead.
Thanks,
Coach Wahl
