Bad day? Shower well. Wash the grime, the grief, the anxiety...watch it all circle down the drain. Because wherever you're going next, they deserve your full attention. Not the leftovers of a hard day.
I kept this story in my pocket for a long time....
In Pittsburgh, September 15th is Roberto Clemente Day.
Every year the whole organization fans out across the city. It's like Christmas. Roberto's family is there, Vera and the boys.
My first year as manager was 2011. We celebrated. We shook hands and moved on.
We didn't win.
19 consecutive losing seasons.
2012 rolls around. Same day, same celebration. We had another losing season, our 20th consecutive.
After the ceremony, Roberto Jr. walked over.
"My mom wants to talk to you."
We went into the dugout. Me, Vera, and her three sons.
She spoke in Spanish. I played four years of winter ball so I understood enough. She wasn't angry, but she was passionate. And I kept hearing Roberto's number come up.
Roberto Jr. translated.
"My mother wants you to know that there cannot be a 21st losing season. That was Roberto's number. It would be a disgrace to his legacy."
She was staring right at me.
Before I could even think about what to say, words came out of my mouth:
"I promise you, Vera. That won't happen."
Roberto Jr. looked at me and said, "You made my mom a promise. I hope you can keep it."
I said, "I hope I can keep it too."
I didn't tell my coaches. I didn't tell the players. I told my wife. That was it.
The next year, 2013, we broke the consecutive seasons losing streak. Ended it at 20.
On Roberto Clemente Day that September, Vera came walking across that field.
And I probably got one of the most meaningful hugs I've ever received in my life.
The players did all the heavy lifting. I just got the hug.
Some promises are worth making before you know if you can keep them.
@Pirates
Yes, I can do this. I will send them left. I will send them right. I will send them down the center. I have no idea what I’m talking about. Good luck Brows.
Aaron Rodgers arrived at Solider Field about 20 minutes ago, walked one lap around the field, flipped off a couple of the cameras that were filming and went back inside. Used his right hand to flip the bird, so unclear if he could do it with his left. Status for today’s game still up in the air.
“So, the Devil promised you a fiddle made of gold.”
“Thats right.”
“But you had to wager your eternal soul?”
“Correct.”
“In a fiddlin’ contest.”
“Yes.”
“Against the devil.”
“Uh huh.”