Bean and Baseball Time Flies

My sons have golfed, played soccer, football, baseball, and basketball. No other sport has bonded us to the other families or made a bigger impact on our daily lives as baseball has. Our season seems to never end and our interaction with the other families didn't stop when baseball paused over the winter break.

Bean had a small frame with a big heart and at first glance, he was very unassuming and didn't garner much attention. In his small frame he worked and was pushed to be better than others were projecting him to be, Bean was told at a very young age. "I'll teach you to pitch in the frame you have, while we wait for the frame you want."

I am an Army infantry Veteran, a product of Sand Hill from July to November of 1989, 4/30th Infantry. Ft.
Benning, Georgia, is where I grew up and put earlier lessons taught haven been raised in East Texas.

Growing up in East Texas during the 70s and as a teenager in the 80s was a lot of fun. If reality shows had been a thing then, what an amazing show that would have been.

Football is king in East Texas—it has always been and it will always be. A few stars emerged as baseball
players in the 80s, but that was only a drop in the hat compared to football. Friday nights in Tyler, Texas, were a no brainer during the fall; football at home or on the road was the plan.

High school graduation was bittersweet. I would be leaving my family and friends, and the known for the
unknown. After training was complete, I was assigned to the 25th Infantry Division, and I spent the next two years and nine months stationed at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. I must have been the luckiest guy on earth. I enjoyed my time in the military, my fellow soldiers, and being a soldier. We enjoyed the service, but we loved our free time even more. We didn't get in much trouble, or at least, we didn't get caught. We held each other accountable, and that brotherhood from 1989 continues on in 2020.

I raised boys. I loved our community and I loved being a part of whatever was going on. One day, my son
brought a football flier home from school. Our lives would forever be changed; our weekends now belonged to Mesquite Pee Wee Football. It didn't take long before the majority of our friends became the parents of the other children. One day, a parent asked if we were available to guest play; it turns out, they had a player unavailable due to football happening during the time the baseball game was scheduled to be played. Reluctantly, we agreed to guest play. This one weekend, a chance opportunity to play, started our obsession with baseball.

As a kid, I remember sitting outside on the porch with my grandfather on Walton Dr. in Tyler, Texas, in the 70s. While my grandfather listened to the game on the radio, I would hear the crack of the bat, and the cheering that immediately followed. To this day, I still get excited at the crack of the bat—unless my son is pitching. Then, all I can think of is, Don't throw it to that spot again!