Sorry is a Sacrament

One of the year’s pleasant surprises for New England baseball fans everywhere was the Boston Red Sox winning of the 2021 American League East Division Series. It was supposed to be a rebuilding year for the home team and none of the baseball experts predicted them to be in a position to compete for a playoff spot this season.

The 2021 Red Sox team was a scrappy and likable bunch of players, fighting until the last out and often coming from behind to win games. They were underdogs all year but managed to squeak into a wildcard playoff position; where they then proceeded to defeat their arch-rival New York Yankees, and odds-on favorites Tampa Bay Rays – before finally losing in the championship series to the Houston Astros.

A lot of the credit for the team’s successful season was given to their young manager, Alex Cora. Alex had previously coached the Red Sox and was praised for leading the team to the World Series Championship in 2018. He was suspended by Major League Baseball for the entire 2020 season, however, when it was discovered that he participated in a scheme to steal the opposing team’s pitching signals back in 2017 when he was working as a bench coach for the Houston Astros.

Trying to steal your opponents signs is a tradition as old as baseball because it can give batters a significant advantage when they know which type of pitch is coming (Fastball, Curveball, Sinker, Breaking Ball, Splitter, etc.). Stealing signs is not against the rules as long as the players manage to decipher the signals using personnel that are on the field.

The most common way teams try to steal signs is for a runner on base to peek in and study the hand signals the catcher sends to his pitcher prior to every pitch and then relay the sign to his teammate standing in the batting box. If a team does not disguise their signals effectively or change them up occasionally, then the opposing team is usually able to decode them.

What made the sign-stealing scheme devised by the Houston Astros and Alex Cora against the rules is that their efforts made use of on-field technology. They used a dedicated camera in the center field stands of their home stadium that was focused directly on the opposing team’s catcher. The video was sent to a monitor near the Houston dugout where Houston players could examine it and quickly decode the signs being sent to the pitcher. Various methods were then used to communicate the decoded pitch signs to the batter, including hand signals, whistling and banging on a trash can. Alex Cora even received the stolen sign information on the smartwatch he was wearing.

Condemnation was swift when the scheme was first revealed to the public in 2019 by a traded Houston pitcher. The whole Houston Astros team was immediately branded as cheaters and the World Series championship Houston won in 2017 came to be seen as illegitimate, tarnished forever by the cheating scandal. Major League Baseball conducted a retroactive investigation in 2019 and punished all the managers it found participated in the scheme with a one year suspension.

This included Alex Cora, who had moved on to manager of the Boston Red Sox and led them to the 2018 World Series Championship. Cora paid a high price for his decision to participate in the cheating scheme. The once proud man lost his job, his sterling reputation, his dignity, and the respect of his friends, family and colleagues. He spent a year exiled away from the game he loved while he watched the media attack his character and his young children suffer because of his sullied reputation.

Despite the harsh judgement, Cora never complained. He sincerely apologized for his actions, admitted his fault in the sign stealing scheme, acknowledged that what he did was unfair to the teams they played against and accepted his punishment as well deserved. It was clear he truly felt remorse for his role in the whole affair.

I found myself becoming emotional while watching Alex Cora lovingly embrace his young 14 year old daughter Camilla in the immediate aftermath of the Red Sox victory over the Rays in the Division Series. A postgame reporter asked Alex what that moment meant to him after serving a year of suspension. Here is the video clip of that special moment courtesy of the MLB Network (along with a transcript of his remarks about his family):

“I’m happy for my family. I put them in such a tough spot last year and for them to be able to enjoy it is very gratifying, I’m very very happy for them. She [Camilla] suffered a lot and it was my fault, and sometimes we make bad decisions, and I made a horrible decision in baseball and I paid the price. But what really hurt me was for them to suffer because of my mistakes. And for her to enjoy this is very gratifying.

Alex Cora, Postgame interview, 2021 ALDS

So many people today are afraid to say they are sorry or admit they have done something wrong. They view apologizing as a sign of weakness and surrender; therefore their egos prevent them from owning up to their mistakes or attempting to repair and heal the hurt they have caused.

Still other people never develop the moral compass or sense of compassion and empathy that is necessary to understand how their actions negatively affect others. They feel entitled, believing that the world revolves around them – and they are so used to thinking about themselves that they have no capacity to think about anyone else.

That is why it was so refreshing to watch how Alex Cora handled the fall out from the cheating scandal. Here was a rare example of an authentic apology, one where Alex confessed remorse for his mistake, admitted that it was wrong, fully cooperated with the investigators, accepted his punishment and attempted to make amends with those who were most hurt.

I can’t help but contrast Alex Cora’s apology with one recently made by the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers, Aaron Rodgers. Aaron was widely criticized when it was discovered that he lied to reporters at a press conference when he told them he had been fully “immunized” against the COVID-19 virus. The truth that he had never received a vaccination was only revealed after he became infected with COVID and was forced to go into NFL quarantine protocols.

Rather than apologizing for lying to reporters and his failure to follow mandated COVID-19 safety protocols, Rodgers first tried to explain that when he said he was immunized he meant he had taken some (ineffective) home treatment and he didn’t actually say that he was vaccinated. He inferred that the reporters were to blame because they assumed immunized meant vaccinated.

When that explanation was roundly ridiculed, Rogers tried again by issuing a statement saying that some people might have felt misled by his comments and that he takes full responsibility for the misleading comments.

Notice in this example of a fake apology Rogers never says he is sorry for putting people at risk and he never says he regrets what he did. He apologizes only to those who “felt misled,” as if it was just their feeling, and not his own actions, that were to blame. The reality is that people felt misled because Rodgers misled them.

Rodgers elaborated further, explaining that he believed strongly in body autonomy and that he wasn’t up-front with people because he didn’t want to acquiesce to a “woke culture” or a “crazed group of individuals” who harass those who choose not to get vaccinated. With this explanation, Rodgers again shifts the blame for his wrongdoing. It is not his fault that he lied and exposed others to potential risk, – it is the fault of a group of crazy people and the toxic culture.

After this explanation was also criticized, Aaron Rodgers just refused to talk anymore about the subject. This was probably his wisest decision since bad apologies that blame the victims usually make things worse than saying nothing at all.

Looking in someone’s eyes and offering a sincere apology is not easy. Many people, like Aaron Rodgers, attempt to get by with with fake apologies which seek to avoid responsibility by making excuses, shifting blame, downplaying what was done, invalidating the hurt person, or trying to move on prematurely.

By contrast, Psychologists say that authentic apologies have most or all of the following elements:

• It is freely offered without conditions or minimizing of what was done
• It conveys that the person apologizing understands and cares about the hurt person’s experience and feelings
• It conveys remorse
• It offers a commitment to avoid repeating the hurtful behavior
• It offers to make amends or provide restitution if appropriate

During my lifetime I have given more than my share of ineffective apologies, but it is a life skill that I’m still working to improve because it is impossible for any of us to go through life without hurting someone. As Bob Dylan once sang: “I hurt easy, I just don’t show it; you can hurt someone and not even know it“. We are all human and in the daily course of our existence, no matter how hard we try, there are going to be moments ahead when we are guilty of hurting people. During those moments of our life, we should try, like Alex Cora, to put aside our egos and summon the humility and dignity that is required to repair the damaged relationship and make it stronger.

A good apology is like an offering or a gift that has a supernatural power to heal. The Catholic faith believes that admitting to our faults and seeking reconciliation with God and our neighbors is so important that they have established it as one of the Church’s seven sacred sacraments. The practice of Confession and forgiveness are referred to as a healing sacrament, one in which a spiritual power is believed to be transmitted through channels of divine grace.

During this season of thanks giving and gift giving, may you too come to experience the holy and redemptive power of the Sacrament of Sorry that is just waiting for all of us who seek it out sincerely.

Don’t let your ‘don’t voice’ dominate your thoughts

Growing up a die hard Red Sox fan and living in the Boston area during the 1990’s I can remember the frustration and disappointment I felt in seeing my beloved home team bested on the field every year by the hated New York Yankee’s baseball team.

So I will admit that it secretly gave me pleasure when the Yankee’s  star second baseman at the time, Chuck Knoblauch, became afflicted with a serious case of a malady known as the yips.

Yips is the name given to describe an event when an athlete temporarily loses control of their fine motor skills. The condition occurs suddenly as twitches, staggers, jitters and jerks of the muscles when athletes are attempting to perform a single precise and well-timed action (such as putting a golf ball or throwing a baseball).

The causes of the condition are poorly understood and there is no known therapy that guarantees a cure. Athletes affected by the yips sometimes recover their ability, but many are forced to abandon their sport because they become unable to produce the basic motions that are required to play their game.

The Mayo Clinic says the condition can be psychological, neurological, or a combination of both. Most doctors believe that the unwanted muscle spasms are caused by performance anxiety or by a neurological dysfunction called focal dystonia – caused by the over-training of muscle groups that execute a repetitive action.

In the case of Chuck Knoblauch, his yips started when he suddenly began struggling to throw the baseball accurately to first base. The throw from the 2nd base position to 1st base is considered the shortest and easiest in baseball, yet for some reason in 1999 Chuck Knoblauch lost his ability to consistently throw the ball accurately to his 1st baseman – who was standing a mere 40 feet away from him.

That year he committed a record 26 errors – four of the errors came in a single game, one throw so bad that the ball sailed over the 1st baseman’s head and hit a mother in the face who was sitting in the grandstands. The Yankees ultimately had to move Chuck Knoblauch to the Left Field position because he was unable to overcome the yips he experienced while manning 2nd Base.

Jeff Bond, a psychologist who studies the yips at the Australian Institute of Sports, says the yips are more complex and difficult to treat than almost any physical injury. He believes that: “Within each of us there resides two key motivations: one is the motivation to achieve success and the other is the motivation to avoid failure. We all have both; and at different times, and for different reasons, one voice will speak a lot louder than the other.”

He calls the yip voice the “don’t voice”; that voice inside your head motivating you to avoid failure. The yips are more prevalent in sports like baseball, golf and tennis because those sports have a lot of “think time” and provide a greater opportunity for that “don’t voice” to boom out loudly in the athlete’s head. An athlete in those sports has a long time to think about their next shot and to dwell on the possibility of failure – which can lead to paralysis and self-doubt when the time comes to actually perform.

While I initially derived pleasure watching Chuck Knoblauch struggle with his yips – and I mocked his inability to make such simple throws – it was an encounter with the yips that occurred in my own life that helped me to re-examine my position about those struggling with this affliction and to view them with much more sympathy and compassion.

It happened in my 30’s when I joined a dart team with some of my co-workers. Being part of the nine member team gave me an opportunity to get out and socialize with friends every Tuesday night and to have fun testing my dart throwing skills against other dart throwers in the region.

Our team was initially placed in the beginners division but over the course of several years we gradually moved up to the A division as our skills improved and as we won division tournaments. I found that as the level of competition increased, so did the pressure. At the highest level of competition there is very little margin for error because making one or two poor throws during a match could mean the difference between winning and losing.

To further magnify those feelings of pressure all of the teammates and opponents would gather around the board watching each match with great interest and trying to cheer their side on to victory. What had started out as a relaxing fun activity with my friends had turned into a high stakes battle requiring intense focus.

To cope with the increasing psychological pressure of the games, I worked on different strategies. First I focused on my throwing mechanics, endeavoring to use the same stance and consistent throwing motion each time so as to eliminate variables in my delivery that could cause variation.

The goal was to become so comfortable and practiced with my throwing mechanics that my throws would become automatic during the match, leaving my mind free to focus only on the dart board and the dart target.

Another strategy I employed was to make sure my alcohol level content was properly “calibrated”. My team would joke about this asking if anyone needed additional “aiming fluid” prior to the start of the match. I found that the alcohol did serve to reduce the pre-game jitters and helped me to worry less about my fear of failure. Gauging the proper amount of “aiming fluid” for optimum performance however was a challenge as there were more than one occasions when it was obvious that my over-indulgence of aiming fluid led to sub-par performances.

Despite these coping strategies, I vividly remember several instances that came up during important dart matches in my last season when I came down with what I can only describe as the yips.

The first episode occurred at an important moment during a key match when the outcome was in doubt and I had a chance to win the game. I stepped up to the line and extended my right arm with the dart in my hand getting ready to start my throwing motion.

Suddenly, my hand started trembling and I couldn’t quiet it. I stepped off the line and took a deep breath. When I returned to the line I was able to steady my hand, but at the completion of my throwing motion my fingers failed to obey my brain and release the dart when they were commanded. The dart flew wildly off course – not even hitting the dart board.

The errant throw really shook my confidence because it was rare for me to miss the target I was aiming at by more than an inch. It was inconceivable to me that I had just thrown a dart that missed the target by more than 2 feet.

I stepped off the line again, my teammates trying to encourage me. As I transferred my second dart into my throwing hand and held it between my fingers, I remember looking down and thinking how foreign it felt in my hand at that moment. Even though I had perfected my throwing mechanics in hundreds of practice and game events it felt like I was holding a dart for the first time.

I stepped to the line again, but that “don’t voice” and fear of failure was now booming loudly in my head. Instead of concentrating on the target that I was trying to hit to win the game, my mind was thinking instead about my throwing mechanics, how I was embarrassing myself and how I was letting my teammates down. The voice in my head had become my own worst enemy.

My second and third darts were not as wild, but not surprisingly given the state of my mind, were still way off target. Honestly, I was relieved when my opponent promptly stepped up to the line after my turn and won the game. I did not feel at that moment in time that I was capable of winning the game. My motivation to avoid failure far exceeded my motivation to achieve success.

At the completion of the season I decided to quit the dart team but it wasn’t because of the dart yips episodes. By that time I had worked on other techniques to help minimize their effect on me when I felt them coming on.

My motivation for retiring came when I decided that it was more important and better for me to spend my time at home on Tuesdays with my wife and young family; rather than staying out late, hanging out in seedy bars, drinking too much and being unproductive every Wednesday because I was tired and hung over from the night before. It is a decision I never looked back and regretted.

Nor do I regret the brief time I spent immersed in that world of competitive dart tournaments – because I learned some valuable life lessons from the experience. I learned techniques that I could use to help me perform under pressure; I learned not to let my motivation to avoid failure overwhelm me and get in the way of me reaching out to achieve success; and I learned that there is no place more important than home.

Last of all, I learned not to take pleasure in other people’s misfortunes – regardless of whether they are friend or foe. Life is hard enough after all, and making life harder for people by being mean-spirited ends up diminishing us all.

“I value my religion, because like a batting average, it sets a standard by which I can measure myself”

When most people think of Babe Ruth they picture a man with a larger-than-life reputation – a great baseball player with a reckless appetite for drinking and womanizing. While that reputation is well-deserved it does not accurately portray the complexities of the man and his lifelong struggles to live up to his Christian ideals.

Babe Ruth Portrait – 1920

Ruth was a born into a rough section of Baltimore in 1895; his mother died when he was a twelve and his father, who operated a saloon, didn’t have much time for the son who quickly became a tobacco-chewing, beer-drinking, swearing delinquent. Too much for his father to handle, Ruth was sent to the St Mary’s Industrial School for Boys, a reformatory and orphanage that was run by the Xaverian Christian Brothers.

It was there that Ruth received his formal education and learned the basics of the carpentry and shirt-making trades. The school’s Prefect of Discipline, Brother Matthias, who was greatly respected by the boys for his strength and fairness, tutored Ruth on the mechanics of throwing and hitting a baseball.

Ruth still got into trouble often while at the school, but he benefited from the strict discipline and moral teachings of the Catholic tradition as he remarked in later years that the biggest life lesson he took away from his time at the school was that “God was Boss“.

Ruth went on to have a legendary career and is regarded by many as the greatest baseball player of all time, setting numerous records that stood for many years. During the height of his fame, Ruth was treated as a hero and he used his money and fame to live a life of excess food, drink, and women.

He admitted to straying often during his life, but he was grateful for the religious tradition he learned as a boy which he felt always brought him back to the right path. He would attend Sunday Mass after being out carousing all night; he was an active member of the Knights of Columbus; he would visit schools, orphanages, and hospitals throughout his life; he would donate generously at fundraisers; he refused to divorce his wife and looked after her even when they were separated; and he often returned to St Mary’s to help the school and Brother Matthias.

There are some important principles that I find admirable about the way Babe Ruth approached life that can be instructive for us as we try to be our best – one day at a time.

1. Ruth never abandoned his Catholic faith and throughout his life he used the foundation of his faith as the “standard” by which he measured himself. Although he was idolized as a baseball god, he never forgot that God was the true boss. Likewise, I think that we all need a standard by which to measure ourselves. Those of us who have been raised within a religious tradition should be grateful for the moral virtues instilled in us that help direct our path and protect us from becoming selfish, self-absorbed people.
2. Ruth was not a perfect man. His faults were many – but he was not blind to them because of the moral standards that were ingrained in him. Like Ruth I think it is healthy for us to make an honest inventory of our own faults and weaknesses and acknowledge them so that we can work on correcting them.
3. Great baseball players in general, and Babe Ruth in particular, do not let past failures prevent future success. Even the greatest baseball players fail 2 out of every 3 times they step into the batter box. Elite batters have the gift of forgetting the last unsuccessful at-bat because they know that dwelling on it will rob them of the full mental concentration they need to make the most of their present opportunity. That is a lesson for all of us to be easy on ourselves during those times that we fail. Dwelling on past failures can perpetuate self-defeating behaviors and prevent us from living fully in the moment. It is good to desire perfection, but we should keep in mind that Christian tradition teaches us that God forgives us when we fail and that many of the greatest Biblical characters were reformed sinners.
4. Who knows what would have become of Babe Ruth if Brother Matthias had never taken the time to instruct him on the art of playing baseball. Small acts we do can have great consequences, both good and bad, in the lives of those we interact with each day. Ruth never forgot Brother Mathias for all that he did for him and he went out of his way throughout his life to be a positive role model to all the kids he encountered. We can each make a difference in someone’s life who is more unfortunate than us. We would do well to ask ourselves often ‘Who are you feeding with your life today?’.

So, a tip of my cap to the Babe for all the life lessons. I wish you had remained with the Red Sox throughout your career, but I am not going to dwell on that past failure…