A new pitching mound

To Andrew upon his graduation from Florida State.

Even though no one said it would be easy guiding a boy into manhood, it was - with you.

In many ways, like helping you stay innocent. That was easy - as easy as walking the Toys R Us isles looking for the new batman figure; making sure your kitchen towel cape didn’t fall off when I lifted you to see the new stuff.

Easy like teaching you to throw a safe-rubber baseball when you were little; to toss those wobbly pitches from just a few feet away. Then helping you learn to play in those loose-fitting little league jerseys that hung on your skinny and gangly frame. Always hoping you'd be on the Cubs - even the little league ones.

And then they moved the pitching mound back. I remember getting to the field early with you, before you pitched in your first pony-league game, our voices dimmed by the loud trains running next to the park. We walked that new stretch of grass, to the distant mound and your new outer limits.  You knew you had to learn to throw strikes, throw faster. To use your curveball; really use it. To get stronger, gain weight (aka drink more shakes), play smarter.

And to my amazement, you did.

Last night, watching you graduate, I remembered so many of our times together.  Days we spent in the afternoon sun, swallowed in cut summer grass; you and Tommy looking up, looking for scuffed white balls floating into the blue summer sky. They seemed impossible to catch at that height.  But as they got closer, you found that you could – even if there were a few black eyes and bruises when the wind shifted.

I remembered our days in the basement playing Nerf basketball; when you thought I had played for the Bulls; me on my knees to make it even.  You dunked on the playschool hoop so many times it was reinforced with screws and glue and home-made parts.  It was only Playschool, but even so it seemed transforming. If you could dunk on an ex-Bull when you were six, couldn’t you dream of soaring ten feet and dunking for real? (which I saw you do last week) Or even flying?

Creating that chemistry with you was fun.

Then we drove to college. I see us stopping for Gatorade in Tallahassee, on a sticky summer afternoon. We met your next step in life together. A big campus, a cranky coach, and sacrifices driven by your baseball dreams. After class, you'd ride your bike through Florida summer storms and they'd call you “Lance.” But they didn't know about you – you and me – and what we'd done together. On character, determination and the will to accept challenge. On willing yourself - seeing yourself - soar.

You came to know the adrenaline-sweet feeling of being in the real game.  All of it; on buses and benches and summer sandlots.

Then, in the Legends; you discovered who Andrew really was. You saw yourself as a person and a friend - of character, honesty and integrity. You understood yourself as I’ve always known you. You've just become bigger and better. I have great memories helping you get there. But as I said, you made it easy. So easy.

Over the last year, we've helped each other so many times. Sought to understand our new limits; our new pitching mounds.  And I’m glad I have you with me as I try.

I love you Andrew.  And I'm proud of you.