Now here’s a guy.
Richie Ashburn.
He was born in Tilden, Nebraska, in 1927. For all the reasons that life happens the way it does, he stuck around for 70 years, leaving the earth in 1997. Heart attack.
Most people know him or don’t, because he played outfield for the Philadelphia Phillies. He went on to be a veteran sportscaster. But, Ashburn is one of the most beloved sports figures in Philadelphia history. Right up there with the Cheese Steak and Rocky Balboa, I suppose.
As another item of note, he was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame. This happened two years before he died. Good thing they didn’t wait any longer to give the nod to old. Ricky.
Anyway, that’s not the big news with him. At least not to me.
The first event happened on this date, September 8, 1954. While up to bat for the Phillies, Ashburn ran up a 3-2 count. What that means for non-baseball fans is that he had three balls and two strikes. One more ball, and he walks. One more strike, and he’s out. So Ashburn stood up there at the plate and fouled off the next 14 pitches. Yes, 14 in a row. Then, on the next pitch, he walked.
I have no idea if he scored that inning, if the Phillies won the game, or who they were playing. But to foul 14 pitches in a row is really something. I bet the crowd went wild.
This all could be an example of several different characteristics.
Persistence.
Skill.
Luck.
Fear.
Or maybe a combination of some or all of those. Perhaps, it was something entirely different.
Mostly, I bet persistence drove Ashburn. But it may come in many varieties and have an array of different causes.
I know some people show more persistence than others. A certain individual might throw in the towel quickly. Another may fight tooth and nail for whatever it is they are doing. Be it a competition or a cause or a promise. Perhaps, a relationship. Whatever the situation might be, they stand up there and shell off 14 foul balls before they take their base. They pull an Ashburn.
Back to Richie.
Move forward three years to August 17, 1957. Ashburn was at bat, again. And, once more, he fouled off a pitch. This time, the thing soared into the crowd and hit a woman —Alice Roth — directly in the face. She suffered a broken nose and more. They loaded poor Alice on a stretcher and started to carry her out of the stadium.
Play resumed on the field, and Ashburn stepped back up to the plate. Again, he fouled off the next pitch, sending it into the crowd, and it hit Alice Roth. Again. This time while she was flat on the stretcher.
Now, that, my friends, is a remarkable feat too.
It could be an example of several different characteristics.
Persistence.
Accuracy.
Luck.
Dislike / Vendetta.
I doubt it is the latter.
Regardless, Richie Ashburn had a thing with foul balls.
Mostly, though, I think this is how life can be. Something happens, and we say, well, “What are the odds?”
Life happens, and it has a way of keeping us on our toes.
Serendipity?
Fortune?
Accident?
Destiny?
Happenstance?
Coincidence?
Fate?
We try to make sense of the reasons. But we’ll never truly know if there is a man behind the curtain pulling the switches this way and that — or if we are all just in some big gumball machine, waiting for the next penny to drop.
And a good day to you all.
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“It’s hard to believe in coincidence, but it’s even harder to believe in anything else.”
― John Green
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“In the space between chaos and shape there was another chance.”
― Jeanette Winterson
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“Million-to-one chances…crop up nine times out of ten.”
― Terry Pratchett
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The foul things add up in life. Sometimes, it’s a hit.
