The Art of Goodbye

Seeing Youk go was watching a piece of nostalgia walking away with that bald head and ballerina batting stance. But let's face it, he's not the first to go. And he's not the last

            Every bride looks beautiful, but she was elegant and angelic. Her dad walked his baby girl down the isle with a face that revealed his secret; that he would break down at any time. A tear finally rolled down his cheek as he kissed her good bye. Hearts broke as she clutched to him for one last embrace, the way things were.

            At the reception I asked him what he thought about it all.

            “Just another day,” he said and looked out to his daughter.

            And it was.

            They would hug again. He would tell her he loved her and she would always be his little girl but in one tear was a moment of purity that said potently, “life is precious and the time is fleeting.”

            On my way home I sat in a quiet airport gate, scrolling through the news that Kevin Youkilis, the Greek God of Walks had been traded.

            “Red Sox acquire INF/OF Brent Lilibridge and RHP Zach Stewart from White Sox in exchange for Youk”

            “After 9 years in Boston, Youk is changing the color of his sox”

            I read the tweets and Facebook statuses over and over. Finally I read, “Kevin Youkilis is honored on field with standing ovation after being removed from game”. Another tweet described how bellows of “Youkkkkk!” soared through the Fenway air. Something it wouldn’t do the same way ever again.

            Sitting on the hot tarmac in Pittsburgh I felt the goosebumps from imagining the sight and sound of what that good bye must have meant miles away in Boston. 

            Before then, as I went through the security checkpoint, two young teenage girls hugged each other discretely on the side of a gift shop. Their shoulders rose and fell with their sobs. Over that unmistakable human sound of weeping, I heard the delicate words, “good bye”.

            How naïve, that they thought a good thing wouldn’t come to an end.

             Even though that was true, strangers turned away because no one was strong enough to deny it was hard not to want to cry right along with them.

            No, there’s no crying in baseball. But at the very moment Youk was saying good bye to the Boston Red Sox, I was at an airport- the very place where the inevitability of life is comings and goings. And even when that’s recognized, you still can’t help but fight back the tears when touches of emotion pops into the patterns of redundancy and you remember just why you’re sad to go.

            Life returns. The girl’s tears stopped halfway through security. Youk will get walks, he will bat and play in a different uniform ( and be 1 and 4 in his first attempt). More will come and more will go. That’s why it’s so important to stop and appreciate the power of goodbye and all it teaches in being grateful for good memories.

            I read another tweet, while I sit paused in the place that is all about good byes. “David Ortiz is now the last remaining member of the 2004 team.”

             2004.
            Now those were some good memories.

           

As a player you might never know how you will be received in Fenway for the first time you're not one of them. But inside, I think you know if you'll be accepted among the greatest crowd of all. 

It's been fun, wish you the best.