Additional content may be available by clicking on the title of an entry.

I can’t help it, but every time I cut the lawn, I smile. The reason is simple. I smell the wonderful odors of the grass and a wave of pleasant memories come flooding back about my favorite childhood pastime—playing baseball.

Hardball was reserved for the official baseball leagues, with my dad as coach, while neighborhood games meant softball every day, if it didn’t rain. All we needed was a tee shirt, a cap, a ball, gloves, and we were all set.

Mom excelled in the cookie department and gave a shout whenever her newest variety came out of the oven and needed consumption. Of course, they were quickly washed down with milk or juice in short order and then it was back to the business at hand.

When the official baseball season arrived, a freshly mowed field meant “real” games with nine kids on the team, uniforms, and ice cream cones at the local Dairy Queen, whether we won or lost. Although dad liked to win as much as all of us, he didn’t feel it was the only thing. If you played your best, regardless of the outcome, you deserved a reward.

There was camaraderie, too, and we all rooted for each other. We all had a goal to win and we knew we needed each other to accomplish that end. Ritchie Griffiths was our long ball slugger, Gary Portal our catcher, Gary Watkins our third baseman, and Stu Pratt our southpaw pitcher.

I still remember shivering in my sneakers the first time my dad put me up to bat against the ferocious fast ball pitcher, Ritchie Muskarella. I was just a pipsqueak my first year and my dad figured I might be able to get on base with a walk. Despite my dad’s best advice of: “Don’t swing! Just stand there and make him pitch!” I struck out anyhow.

Eventually, with a lot of guidance and perseverance, I became a decent shortstop with a good batting average.

My dad also believed strongly in keeping players alert and maintaining a high morale by constant “pepper” or encouragements from the team. If it got too quiet out on the field he would yell, “I don’t hear any chatter out there,” and we would burst into a spontaneous chorus of overzealous crickets with words like: “C’mon, Stu, burn it by ‘em. Burn it by ‘em” or “Two out! Two outs! Only one more. We can do it.” Of course, my dad would draw the line against derogatory personal comments about the opposing players or off-color jokes.

When I think about it, some of those ingredients that helped us do well as a team could also be applied to almost any group, whether it be a company or a church.

One. Understand that you need each other if you are going to succeed (1 Corinthians 12).

Two. Do the best you can and it is a reward in itself (“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men…” (Colossians 3:23).

Three. Speak positively to one another frequently (Hebrews 3:13).

Four. Don’t speak harshly of other people or groups (2Timothy 2:24).

If all the members of our groups or churches practised these principles it would surely be a sweet aroma to outsiders and might even interest people in joining us, or listening to what we have to offer.

Ah…there’s nothing like freshly cut grass!

Questions:

How would you rate your team (family) in the above four categories? Understanding your need for each other. Doing your best at your job or chore no  matter what it is. Encouraging one another frequently. Not speaking badly of other teams or families.

What are your strong points?

Where would you say you need improvement?