All day long, I was thinking about this Nick Adenhart thing and how to put it into perspective. Then, I got to my parent’s house for Passover and my dad hit me with this:
Nick Adenhart pitched 6 shutout innings last night. If he pitches 7, he’s alive today.
It’s an odd way to look at life, but it’s true. If he gives up one more run, faces one more batter or even throws just one more pitch, Nick Adenhart doesn’t lose his life in a senseless car accident. He leaves the game one minute later, stops at a red light that would’ve otherwise been green and never realizes that a drunk driver in a minivan had flown through that particular intersection just 20 seconds before he arrived.
One moment can change everything.
Just like baseball, life is a game of inches… minutes… seconds. What happened the other day is a scary reminder that, no matter how much we think we control our lives, we aren’t in control of shit. Life is just a serious of random occurances, and the only thing protecting us from harm is luck. Not passenger-side air bags or seatbelts. Just luck.
One more foul ball; one more glance toward the runner on first, and the world is a completely different place today.
(If you’d like to read something similar, but slightly wordier, go here.)
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