Sometimes life throws you a curve.
At seven, Mordecai Brown was on the losing end of a tug-of-war with the corn shredder on his uncle’s farm. In an instant the machine gobbled a portion of the index finger on his right hand.
Strike one!
Just weeks later and with the wound barely healed, young Mordecai was chasing a rabbit on the same farm when he fell and broke the second and third finger of the same hand. Specialists and emergency room visits were not standard fare in the late 19th century. The fingers healed, but with an unusual gnarled shape.
Strike two!
Facing a two-strike count in the game of life, Mordecai Brown dug in. Despite his disability Mordecai played the national pastime — and he played it well. His prowess on the diamond won him a spot as a semi-pro infielder. When the team's star pitcher broke his arm, Brown walked to the hill. In that first appearance he struck out fourteen of the fifteen batters he faced, using the same pitch life had thrown his way -- the curve.
In 1908, Mordecai Peter Centennial Brown, alias “Three Finger” Brown, won twenty-nine games for the Chicago Cubs, a record unbroken. In 1909, he led the Majors with twenty-seven wins. He also topped the league in complete games and saves. Ty Cobb, arguably the greatest hitter the game of baseball has ever seen, said of Brown’s curve,
How good was “Three Finger” Brown? Open a Major League record book and you will find his name next to Mathewson, Johnson, Jenkins, and Ryan; the elite of his craft.
Mordecai Brown has me rethinking adversity . . . where would he be without it?
Brown lived through the 1918 influenza pandemic. He endured the challenges of a country at war (World War I); but perhaps his personal trials where a “blessed adversity.”
Any sportsman or woman knows these are trying times for players and fans alike. We have felt it at Lancaster Bible College | Capital Seminary & Graduate School. Our Charger Nation is a member of the the NCAA Division III. Sadly, fall sports were cancelled. Ditto for NEAC, our regional athletic conference.
Not to worry, players took heart in hopes of aggressive conditioning and practicing; but that too got put on hold. For the sake of campus health and security we put the kibosh on the practice plan for two weeks. Two weeks might as well be an eternity for a student athlete — and for some coaches and parents. And that got me thinking about Mordecai Brown and adversity.
But I couldn’t stop there . . .
I thought of Ted Williams and adversity. In Williams’ first four years of big league baseball, he hit 327, 344, 406, and 356. Spectacular is an understatement for that performance. World War II changed that. Williams, the Splendid Splinter, “lost” three years of professional sports, choosing instead to serve our country. He got back to baseball in 1946, only to get recalled to service in the Korean War in 1952, “losing” another 17 months of pro baseball. His response to the recall? A fellow fighter pilot said, “he did his duty and he didn’t make a big deal out of it.
I thought of Jesse Owens and adversity. Owens fought racism at home while dispelling the Aryan myth in the 1936 Berlin Olympics, breaking five world records in 45 minutes.
I thought of Steve Gleason and adversity. Gleason electrified the Who Dat? crowd of the New Orleans Saints when he blocked a punt in 2005, the Saints first game post Hurricane Katrina. Today he moves via an electric wheel chair. ALS sapped his body, not his spirit. He was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in January this year for his ongoing efforts to aid ALS patients.
I thought of Pat Tillman and adversity. After 911, Tillman traded his Cardinals football jersey for an Army uniform. Two years later he was killed in an ambush providing cover fire for fellow soldiers.
I also thought about the way the Lord addressed Job in the latter part of the book. Job’s lament turned to complaint, even accusation. God said, “Enough is enough, brace yourself like a man, I want to have a few words with you.” I am feeling a little of that sentiment when it comes responding to the moans and groans.
COVID has been devastating for many, depressing for most, and difficult for all. That said, the majority of our nation’s youth are not particularly threatened by the coronavirus. For them it is an adversity of delays and disappointments, not death.
On one hand, my heart goes out to so many who have endured so much — students and student athletes alike. On the other hand, are we missing the “blessed adversity”?
While I don’t take delight in saying “Wait” to healthy athletes, I think this “adversity” can yield a certain blessedness — if we will allow it. God promises to work “everything together for good for those who love him.” Since that is so, this COVID adversity is in many respect its own conditioning.
How can I think about bouncing back from a terrible first half in a soccer match if I can’t bounce back from a little delay? How can I pick up my teammates if I can’t manage my own morale. How can I even talk “TEAM” with a straight face if I can’t live TEAM when the coach says, “We’ve got to put this on hold for two weeks.”
I can’t wait to get on the other side of COVID, to trade social distancing for high fives and group hugs; to toss the mask and get back to “getting in your face,” to swap replays for live games, and virtual for real turf.
We’ll get there . . . but we’ll be better when we arrive if we can embrace this blessed adversity.
Notes:
Ty Cobb, “the most devastating pitch I ever faced” from “Mordecai Brown” in www.baseballhall.org. Accessed September 2, 2020.
A fellow fighter pilot said, “he did his duty and he didn’t make a big deal out of it” from “Ted Williams Heads Back to War” by Alex Coffey in www.baseballhall.org. Accessed September 1, 2020.
Jesse Owens breaking five world records . . . from “Jesse Owens became a sporting legend for his achievements at the 1936 Berlin Games” in www.olympic.org. Accessed September 2, 2020.