“Take me out to the ball game,” you belt out with the other 40,000 fans who are also swaying to everybody’s favorite seventh-inning stretch sing-along.
“Take me out to the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks, I don’t care if I’ll ever get back for it’s root root root for the Cardinals,” It’s getting louder, more passionate at this point.
“For it’s one,
two,
three strikes
you’re out at the old ball game!”
*Phew.*
There is nothing like the sense of pride in singing this iconic song along with the entire stadium about a sport that is so timeless, so unifying.
Baseball is notorious for its slow pace. Some people could say it is the beautiful thing about the sport, and well, for others, it’s just the single-handedly most frustrating thing about the sport. However, baseball, in all its beauty, calls us to deny our deeply rooted, culturally addicted desire for instant gratification. In a world that is hyper-focused on what’s next and constantly working on being better, there is little room for a slow-paced game. That’s why baseball is so attractive. It’s a call to slow down.
So many times in life, we are pushed to do one thing after another, whereas in baseball, the game teaches us so many life lessons—if we just take the time to find them.
The pitcher shakes his head no to the pitch that the catcher signals to him.
The crowd watches in anticipation, growing antsy for the pitcher to just throw the ball.
Again, the pitcher shakes his head, knowing, deep down, that pitch won’t work either.
Stillness sweeps over the stadium. The count is 3-2, and the winning run is on third base.
Confused, the catcher gets up and calls for a timeout. He walks up to the mound to debrief the current situation with his right-hand man, the pitcher.
It seems as though they come to an agreement, because the catcher heads back to the plate after he gives the pitcher a little pat on the back. Quite frankly, this duo is the epitome of what we call “bromance.” Finally, after what seems like forever, he gives the pitcher the count. The pitcher slowly nods his head and releases the pitch.
And poof, just like that, we can learn so much from this simple encounter. The pitcher shows us how to cultivate fortitude, counsel and piety. The catcher, on the other hand, demonstrates gifts of loyalty, wisdom and understanding. It is from their interaction that we are able to understand and see the differences between eulogy and resume virtues.
You might wonder, “How did we learn those virtues from that interaction?” This must be my cue. *clears throat*
Eulogy virtues are those traits that people demonstrate in their lives, in the way they interact with the people they love. The name stems from the association that it is the virtues that people talk about during a eulogy. A little morbid, I know, but it gets the point across in my opinion. It is the little moments that are accumulated over a period of time that allows for people to see the “eulogy virtues.” Are you bold, loving and dependent? Who are you, truly, at your core?
Resume virtues, on the other hand, are the tangible skills you bring to the marketplace. They are the quantitative traits that you enhance throughout your job and career. Are you a critical thinker? Are you proficient in Microsoft Excel? Do you have at least five years of qualified experience in a relevant field?
In his TED Talk, David Brooks further explains this idea and the overlap of resume and eulogy virtues. He goes on to explain that it’s not that we don’t need to resume virtues in our lives in order to be considered successful. Quite frankly, it’s the opposite. Resume virtues are the foundation of who we are and what we do. But eulogy virtues are how we go about doing it in our everyday lives. And really, that’s what matters most in life. The emphasis of the latter should be what we are enriching our lives with: learning how to be a better listener, learning how to love ourselves first and foremost and learning how to serve those we care about the most in an impactful way.
Swing and a miss!
“Strike three!” the umpire yells, which is immediately followed by the roaring noise from the happy crowd. The catcher runs up to the pitcher, and they embrace for a post-win hug.
The smell of hot dogs lingers by the concession stands. The fireworks gleam in the night sky, and all is right in the world. Watching the iconic pitcher-catcher duo head to the dugout makes me wonder how we can learn so much from such a simple interaction that demonstrates the true meaning of eulogy virtues. Those things, the eulogy virtues, are what we should be striving to cultivate in our own lives. It’s learning to take the time to step back from the world and the external pressure it puts on you. (News flash, if you don’t step away, you will never escape it, because it doesn’t go away). It’s learning to ask yourself the important questions and being honest with yourself about the answers. Are you letting courage take the time it needs to grow? Where do you place your value? In your head? Or in your heart?